Human
by Periwinkle Fox
Summary: Meet Ali: A normal girl with a relatively normal life. Or so she thinks. Follow a girl's journey as she meets two interesting brothers and how they change her life forever, and as she learns the true meaning of the word Human. Rated T for swearing and sexual humor.
1. Ali 1

**Hi there! So this is my first Supernatural fic, so if I miss some things, I'm sorry. Here are some things you should know-**

**This takes place in about season 4, but it's kind of AU, because there's no "66 seals and Lilith resurrecting Lucifer" and all that jazz.**

**Castiel will be in this eventually, though, because Destiel is love, Destiel is life.**

**This story won't be super long, but I think maybe 10 chapters or so? **

**This story is a dual narrative, meaning that the POV switches between my OC, Ali, and Sam. It will switch off mostly chapter by chapter, and you'll know when the narrative switches. **

**Please review, it makes my day. **

**Ok, I'll let you enjoy.**

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Ali

I could feel the baseline of some pop song thumping out a beat as people cheered and danced around me. I tried to enjoy myself, but parties really weren't my scene. I swayed along with the music until I spotted my boyfriend over the crowd. "Jimmy!" I called, waving my arms. He saw me, smiled, and headed over.

"Hey Ali, can I talk to you?" He spoke quietly, so it was a little difficult to hear him.

"What did you say?" I yelled over the noise, putting a hand to my ear.

"Ali!" He half shouted. "I need to talk to you!"

"Oh, alright," I yelled back, pulling him into a corner of the room that was a little bit quieter. "What's up?"

"Listen," he started. His face was serious, which was odd. Jimmy was a happy person who usually didn't take things too seriously. "I'm sure you know Carrie's predicament..."

Of course I did, almost everyone on campus knew about Carrie Smith, a freshman who got knocked up by some guy. She was at the party, dancing with her friends about twenty yards away from me.

"Of course I do, everyone does. What does that have to do with anything?" I tried to smile and get Jimmy to loosen up. I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him lightly on the lips. He pushed me back down, so I started to pout. "What's gotten in to you?" I asked, frowning.

"The baby is mine," he muttered. It was so quiet, I barely heard him.

"What?" I whispered. What did he mean, 'the baby was his'? He and I had been dating for almost a year! I composed myself. "What do you mean, the baby is yours?"

"It was three months ago," Jimmy tried.

"Three months ago?" I cried. "You've been keeping this from me for three months?" I could feel heat rising in my chest. How could he cheat on me with some little girl? Jimmy and I were art students, he was 25 and I was 24.

"Ali, I'm sorry, I never meant for this to happen." He tried to hug me or pat my shoulder or something, but I pulled away. I could see Carrie out of the corner of my eye, her blond curls bouncing as she danced to the beat of a song I didn't recognize. My vison turned red for a moment. She had taken my boyfriend from me, she should be in as much pain as I was.

Suddenly, she stopped dancing and started to scratch at her arms. She scratched and pulled, skin coming off in clumps. She was bleeding, her arms, and now legs, but she just kept scratching. I felt bile in my throat as I reached for my phone, dialing nine one one. Around me, people were screaming and staring.

"Hello, nine one one, what's your emergency?" A woman picked up, sounding unnaturally cheery.

"I'm at a party and this girl is tearing off her skin, I don't know what to do," I spoke into the phone, giving the woman my name and telling her where I was.

"Alrighty," she responded. "An ambulance is on its way."

I had to get out of there, away from the screams, and the blood, and Jimmy. I pushed through the crowd, running towards the exit, and I didn't stop until I was all the way home.

The next morning, I turned on news to see Carrie's face on the screen. A woman in a cheap blouse and too much makeup was talking, so I unmuted the TV.

"Freshman Carrie Smith passed away last evening after a severe skitzofrenic episode. She clawed off her skin, and damaged veins and muscle tissue. She died of blood loss at 11:24 pm."

I turned off the TV and ran to my room. This couldn't be happening. Nothing happens in this town. Why was I so freaked about this? I stared at myself in the mirror. Who was I kidding, I knew why this was getting to me.

I had wanted her to be hurt, and not a moment after I had thought it, she was pulling her skin off. But that couldn't have been me, because that's impossible. Things like that don't happen outside of books and movies, and this was real life. I was human, plain as can be. With one final glance in the mirror, I had assured myself I was just being stupid.

I finished my breakfast and went to get undressed to shower, all the while trying hard not to even look at my TV. Once I had stripped down, I stepped into the shower and turned the knob, feeling the water spray against my back. It was icy cold at first, and my body tensed as a chill ran down my spine, but the water warmed quickly. In a matter of moments, warm water was washing down my body then swirling down the drain.

I do a lot of my thinking in the shower, always have, probably always will. As I de tangled my hair, I thought about Jimmy. Why did he cheat on me? Was I not good enough? I knew I wasn't the prettiest, and I could be kind of weird sometimes, but I wasn't that bad.

I wondered what he'd be thinking about. Did he miss me? Or was he mourning the loss of his slut? I cringed. Since when did I see people as sluts? I've always tried to be a relatively nice person, and Jimmy and I were never really that public about our relationship. For all I knew, she didn't even know Jimmy had a girlfriend.

I turned off the water and stepped out on to my tile floor, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around my hair. I grabbed another and wrapped it around the rest of my body, then I went into my room to put my clothes on. I had just pulled my shirt over my head when I heard the doorbell ring.

I stumbled to the front door, pulling my pants up, and opened it up to see two men standing in my doorway. One was very tall, maybe 6'4, with long-ish hair. The other was a little bit shorter, and I wouldn't say he looked mean, but he definitely wasn't the hugs and rainbows type. The taller one stepped forward, puing a paper from his pocket. "Hi, is this the home of an... Aliquam Vendicta?" He squinted at the page, making sure he read it right.

"Yeah, but it's just Ali. Who might you two be?" The other one pulled a badge out of his coat pocket and showed it to me.

"I'm agent Dean Carter, and this is my partner Sam McCartney. We're with the CDC and we'd like to ask you a few questions." I nodded and stepped aside, allowing them to enter my apartment. I lead them over to the couch, and sat down in the chair opposite.

"So why does the CDC want to talk to me?" I said, racking my brain for possible reasons.

"We're here to ask you about Carrie Smith. You were the one who called nine one one last night, correct?" Agent McCartney asked.

"Yeah," I replied. "It was a party and she was dancing, and then all of the sudden, she was scratching like she had the world's worst case of poison ivy."

"Did you know Carrie before last night?" Agent Carter asked, pulling out a notepad.

"No, not personally, but everyone on campus knew who she was. It's not often that a freshman gets pregnant around here," I said, as Agent Carter wrote things down.

"She was pregnant? Do you happen to know who the father was?" Agent McCartney inquired.

I sighed. "My now ex-boyfriend," I sighed again.

"How long have you known about his affair?"

"He told me last night. I was about to leave his sorry ass when Carrie started screaming. I called nine one one, then I went home and threw up." The agents exchanged looks and then turned back towards me.

"So Ali," Agent McCartney started. "Is your name Latin?"

"Yeah, I think," I replied. "My dad named me."

"Do you happen to know what it means?"

"No, not really." I laughed. "I googled it once, but I forget what it was."

Agent Carter started to get up. "We have to go, thank you for your cooperation."

"My pleasure," I said, getting up to escort them to the door. I walked with them down the front hall, watching them leave. once they were out the door, I closed it and twisted the latch.

I walked over to my room where my laptop rested on my bed. What the agents had said made me think. What did my name mean? I opened up my laptop and pulled up google translate. I keyed in my name, then selected Latin to English. I squinted down at my laptop, making sure I was seeing it properly. Aliquam Vendicta means Successful Revenge. I groaned. Leave it to my dad to name me 'successful.'

I didn't remember much about my dad, he left when I was a baby. He didn't say anything to me or my mother, but we woke up one morning and he was just... gone. My mother never talked about him, so I didn't know that much about him.

I clicked out of the tab with google translate and saw that I had netfilx open. I glanced up at my clock, checking the time. It was a little past noon. I didn't have anywhere to be for three and half hours. I looked back down at my screen. I smiled, then proceeded to watch four episodes of some soap opera.

In said soap opera, there was a girl named Delilah. She was trying to make it in Los Angeles as an actress, but it was very difficult on her. The only thing that kept her going was writing back home to her boyfriend, Chad. In the second episode, Delilah gets a job as an extra on some obscure TV show she's never heard of, but she has a lot of fun doing it. She makes a friend named Craig. In the next episode, Delilah starts falling for Craig, even though Chad still thinks they're together. And in the fourth episode, Chad comes to visit, only to find that Delilah and Craig are on a date.

After the fourth episode, I stretched and closed the laptop. I needed to get to the grocery store to pick up some pie or something because it was my mother's birthday. I was due over at her house around four, and the grocery store was on my way.

About ten minutes later, I arrived outside of the lamest grocery store in all of America. I walked inside, grabbing a green plastic shopping basket as I went. I looked up at the signs in front of the aisles (there was a grand total of six) to know where the desserts were. Once I had located the desserts, I stared in horror at the selection.

There was a blackberry and banana pie, a package of expired cookies, and a box of lemon squares. I grabbed the box and headed for the checkout, where a bored-looking employee stood. I dropped the box on the counter and pulled out my wallet. The checker worked slowly, as if she were moving through maple syrup. Not the natural, thin kind, but the thick, sugary fake stuff, like Aunt Jemima or Hungry Jack.

I sighed. "Could you hurry it up a bit please?" I asked, subconsciously checking my watch.

"Excuse me, princess," the woman said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm so sorry to keep you waiting."

"Listen," I tried to reason. "I'm not trying to be rude, but I've got somewhere I need to be in ten minutes, and you're moving like a tortoise!"

"Golly, I didn't mean to hold you up on your way to the ball," she dead panned. I scowled. I hated this grocery store.

A few more excruciating minutes later, the tortoise woman was finally done, and I snatched up my bag and jogged out of the store. Once I had gotten back to my car, I realized I was almost out of gas, so I had to drive over to the gas station which was about five minutes out of my way. When I finally reached my mom's house, it was 4:30.

I rang the doorbell, feeling guilty. My mom was probably all alone, which is an awful thing to be on your birthday. I twiddled my thumbs for about twenty seconds, until my mother opened the door. "Ali! Come on in, Jeffery can't wait to meet you!"

"Huh? Who's Jeffery?" I asked, trying to recall someone with that name, but drawing a blank.

"Oh, he's my boyfriend. You'll love him." My mother smiled, leading me to the kitchen, where she took the lemon squares, and put them in the fridge.

"Woah woah woah," I said. "Since when did you have a boyfriend?"

"Since about three months ago. Come on, you've got to meet him." She lead me to the sitting room where a middle-aged man and a young teenager sat, talking about football. "Jeffery, Kyle, I'd like you to meet Ali, my daughter. Ali, this is Jeffery and his son, Kyle."

Jeffery stood, and put out his and to shake. "Hi, I'm Jeffery, nice to meet you."

I shook his hand, but said nothing. The rest of the evening passed in a daze, filled with small talk, board games, hugs, and lemon squares. By the time Jeffery had left, I was ready to get out of there myself. "It was great seeing you again," I said, hugging my mom.

"I missed you, Ali," My mom said, hugging me back. "Come visit me, okay?"

"Sure thing," I smiled as I walked out the door.

As I drove home, I thought about my mom and Jeffery. I may not like Jeffery all that much, but he made my mom happy, and that was all that really mattered.

I got home, and even though it was late, I wasn't tired. I sat down on my couch and turned on the TV, watching some cartoon about a cat that was conjoined with a dog. It made no sense, how could the animals use the restroom? They had no back-end, they were just a torso and a torso with heads. I was about to change the channel when I felt something hit my head, and everything went black.

I woke tied to a chair, in the middle of some chalk design. I looked up to see the CDC agents, staring at me. "What the hell?" I struggled against the rope. "Why am I tied to a chair? Are you two even CDC agents?"

The shorter one laughed. "Nope, but you're not who you say you are either." He splashed some water in my face, but it stung like hand sanitizer on a paper cut.

"Ouch, what's in that water?" I said, my eyes watering. Some of that liquid got in my eyes and it was starting to sting.

"It's holy water," said the taller one. "Don't you know that?"

"Holy water?" I fumed. "Are you two crazy? Why are you in my house?" I was half-shouting.

The shorter one slapped me. "Don't play dumb, we know what you are."

"Really? Please, enlighten me. Because this whole time, I've thought I was human, but if two strangers say it isn't so, then I must be something else. I am human, dipshits. Now untie me and let me go, and I just might not call the police!"

"You're not human," the taller one said, stepping forward.

"Then what the hell am I?" I said.

"A vengeance demon," the taller one spoke again.

"What in god's name is a vengeance demon?" I cried.

"I've had enough of this, Sam, do your freaky magic thing." The shorter one stepped back as the taller one, Sam, held his hand out, splaying his fingers apart. He closed his eyes and concentrated, but nothing happened.

"Are you two delusional? There's no such thing as magic, demons, or whatever else is running through your heads."

"Dean," Sam whispered. "It's not working."

"What do you mean, it's not working?" Dean demanded.

"It's not a possession, that girl is a demon."

"No," I said again. "I'm human."

"If you're human," Sam started. "Then why did the holy water sting, why is it that moments after you found out your boyfriend was cheating, the girl he cheated with goes insane?"

"I..." I try to think of a reason, but I can't. "That wasn't me! I don't know what happened, I just... I'm human, that's all I am." I wasn't saying it to then anymore, I needed to reassure myself. I'm human, I'm human, I repeat in my head. I'm human.


	2. Sam 2

**Okay, here's chapter two! The only reason I'm updating so fast is because it's summer and I have nothing to do. This chapter is a little shorter than the last chapter, (Last one was like 2.8k this one's around 2.4) So I figured exactly where I want my story to take place. My story is taking place between season four and season five, (I just finished season four, so if season five starts up right after, then shit, too bad.) except in this universe, Lucifer didn't rise, bit they stopped Lilith. Everything else still happened though. Also, yayyyy I got a review already thank you *insert the name of the wonderful girl who reviewed except I forgot your name here* thank you so much, you have no idea how much reviews mean to me. You guys are the best.**

**-Fox**

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Sam

"I...That wasn't me! I don't know what happened, I just... I'm human, that's all I am." Ali pleaded again, this time with tears in her eyes.

I turned to Dean, a grim expression on my face. "I don't think she knows what she is," I whispered.

"Oh my god, for the last time! I'm human, that's all there is to it!" She groaned from her chair.

Dean paused. "What did you just say?"

"That's all there is to it?" She replied, hesitantly.

"No, before that."

"Oh my god, for the last time, I'm human?"

"There!" Dean exclaimed. "Sam, can demons say god?"

"Well," I had to stop and think for a moment. "I don't think so," I said. Maybe Ali wasn't a demon? But she reacted to holy water, and we found sulfur on the victim. I turned towards Dean. "Can I speak to you in the other room?" We walked into the front hall.

"So, do you think she's telling the truth?" Dean asked, putting the flask of holy water back in his pocket.

"I don't know. I think she honestly believes she's human, whether she is or not," I responded.

"So what do we do?"

"We should talk to her, see if we can find out what she is." We walked back into the room Ali was bound in, and I walked over to her. I was about to loosen her ropes when Dean shook his head. Not yet, he mouthed. I nodded.

"So, Ali, we'd like to ask you a few questions." She looked up as Dean spoke her name. A thought popped in my head.

"Ali, earlier today you said your father named you?" I asked. I had a theory.

"Yeah, my dad named me. And the last name's his, too."

"What's your father like?" I asked.

"I don't know, he left my mom when I was a baby." She looked confused, and I felt bad. If she really is what we think she is, she probably has no idea, although I'm not sure how that's possible. How does a demon not know they're a demon?

"When your father left," I began, "do you know if he said anything to your mother prior to that?"

"No, he just left in the middle of the night, what does this have to do with anything?"

"Ali," I said, as calmly as I could. "I think your father may have been a demon." It all made sense. Why she didn't know what she was, how she got her name.

"What?" Ali shouted, her face twisting in confusion. Dean gave me a look, the kind that said 'I have no idea what you're talking about, so you better make a hell of a lot of sense in about twenty seconds.'

"Listen," I spoke softly, because Ali had gone from loudly ingidnant to a scared deer. "It all makes sense. I assume you were raised by your mother?"

"Yes," She whimpered.

"So the reason you don't know what you are is because your mother is human. You were raised believing you were like all the other little girls on the street. But when you were younger, did anything strange happen?"

Ali thought for a moment, wrinkling her nose in concentration. "Well," she started. "When I was eight, my neighbor Georgia Harris stole one of my barbies. I was really mad about it, because I had saved my allowance for two months to pay for it. I remember the next day at school, I heard Georgia telling all her friends about how the hair on her barbies turned from blonde to black, and all the heads fell off."

"And you didn't find this strange?" Dean asked. "It didn't occur to you that something strange might have been going on?"

"I just thought it was karma," Ali shrugged. "Anyway, what does this have to do with anything?"

"I think you might be a vengence demon," I said. "Do strange things happen to people that really piss you off?"

"Once in eighth grade, a girl made fun of me for having braces, and the next day she came to school in headgear. Does that qualify as strange?"

"In a way, yes," I said, smiling a little bit. "Your powers are only active when your angry, though."

"So I'm like a hulk?" Ali groaned. "Green is so not my color."

"Well, yes and no. You need to be angry for your powers to work, but because of your anger you might make some rash decisions. You could really hurt someone, so you need to be careful."

"Wait," Dean said, confused. "So we're not gonna kill her?"

"Well, she's half human, and it's not her fault that she hurt people so far, she didn't even know what she was." I said. Dean and I, we didn't kill anything and everything, just the things that are evil, and the girl sitting before us, tied to a chair, wasn't evil.

I walked closer towards her, and pulled out a knife. She looked terrified, like I might gut her with it, but I cut her ropes and smudged the trap paint. She pulled away her arms and rubbed her wrists. I could see red marks from where the rope had bit into her skin.

"I... I think I'm going to go for a walk. Can you guys, um, stay here? I just want to clear my head, I'll be back in like fifteen minutes or so." Ali looked rattled, like she could use some fresh air.

"Sure," I said. As the front door closed behind her, I met eyes with Dean. "We can't just leave her here," I said, gesturing towards the chair.

"She's a demon, Sam, they're bad news. You of all people should know that."

I sighed. "This is different, I swear."

"Really? Because this seems a hell of a lot like Ruby." Dean began to mimic a little girl."Poor little demon girl, she doesnt want to be a bad guy, because she's good and trustworthy."

"I won't make that mistake again, alright?"

"Of course you won't," Dean said, his voice laced with sarcasm.

"Where's Ali?" I said, looking up at the clock. "It's been like 20 minutes."

"Maybe your demon girlfriend ran away," Dean said. "If she hurts more people, that's your fault, not mine." I punched Dean in the arm, and grabbed my coat. "Where are you going?" Dean asked, as I walked towards the door.

"I'm going to go find Ali," I said, reaching for the knob.

"Not alone, you're not," Dean said. He picked up the knife and his coat, and headed towards me and the door.

As we walked in the brisk, night air, I called out to Ali, but got no response. We walked until we found a sign for a bike trail. There was a nail sticking out on the side, and caught on it was Ali's scarf. "Dean, look," I said, pointing at the scarf.

"How does that happen in real life, someone's scarf get's caught, and they just walk on without it?" Dean asked, shaking his head. We walked on, following the dark trail until we reached a clearing. It was one of those things they do at national parks, where they put in benches and signs with information about the park. It was overlooking a river, and there was someone standing on the railing, her brown hair whipping back and forth in the wind.

"Ali?" I asked, stepping closer. She turned her head, shocked to see us. "What are you doing?"

"I'm a monster," she said, a bitterwseet smile on her face. "All I've done is hurt people. I'm doing the word a favor."

"Step down from the ledge, you're being ridiculous," I said, taking another step closer. Dean had gone uncharacteristically quiet, watching everything unfold.

"Be honest, what use am I to the world?" Ali said, her voice quivering.

"Well, that girl in eighth grade totally deserved it," I tried. Ali gave me a watery smile.

"But did Carrie? She was only eighteen. She was just a child. And I killed her."

"But you didn't know what you were doing, you weren't in control of yourself!"

"Will I ever truly be? I don't know what I'm doing, and all I'd do is screw it up!" By now we were both shouting.

"You can learn, learn to harness your powers," I stepped even closer. "Ali, I can help you."

"What would you know?" She cried, tears starting to run down her cheeks.

"A lot more than you would think." By now I was close enough to grab her arm if she tried to jump. "Please Ali, let me help you."

Ali looked down at the river. It was moving slowly, and it didn't look very deep. I don't know if it would even kill her if she jumped. "You can help me?" She whispered.

"I can," I whispered back. "Please don't do this." Slowly, Ali started to step off the ledge.

"God, I hope you're right," She muttered, wiping the tears off her face.

"Well, now that you two are done, let's head back to your place, Ali," Dean spoke, startling me. I forgot he was there, watching.

When we were back at Ali's, I pulled Dean aside. "We need to take her with us," I whispered.

"No," Dean replied.

"We can't leave her, she needs help, and I think I can work with her."

"No," Dean repeated.

"Once she has a better grasp on her powers, she might be of use," I tried.

"Three months," Dean said.

"What?"

"Three months. That's all you get. If you can save her, great. If not, we slit her throat."

"Sounds fair," I said.

"I'll be in the impala, if you two aren't there in fifteen minutes, I'm leaving." Dean stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door as he went.

I walked back to where Ali was sitting, wrapped in a red blanket. "Ali, I need to ask you something," I spoke. She looked up at me. "Would you come with Dean and I?"

"And do what?" She inquired.

"We track down monsters and demons and send them back to hell," I replied, smiling a little.

"What use would I be?"

"Vengence demons are strong, and once you learn to use your powers, you could be a lot of help."

"Alrighty then," She laughed. "I'll go pack my things." I waited for about ten minutes, sitting on her couch, twiddling my thumbs. I knew Ali could handle herself, but did she? Did she undterstand that she was capable of being so very strong? My thoughts cut off abruptly when Ali emerged from her room, a duffel bag in one hand and a backpack in the other. "I'm ready to go!" She smiled.

We joined Dean in the impala, and as Ali got in the back, he grunted. "Look, Dean," She said. "I know you don't like me, and I'm sorry, I didn't ask to be born a demon. But here's not a whole lot I can do about that. Can we just call a truce?"

"I don't make truces with demons."

"Well, alrighty then, I'll have you know, I am the queen of annoying, and I will make your life hell."

"I've been to hell and back, and an annoying bitch like you would never come close to that experience."

Ali tsked. "Ah ah ah, _queen_ bitch. And is that a challenge?" I had to hold back a laugh.

"You guys," I interrupted. "Stop, I don't want to listen to you bicker like five-year-olds."

"Okay then Sam," Ali laughed. "Tell me a story. How did you guys become... this?"

"It's a really long story," I said, settling into the seat.

"Well, you've got my attention for a really long time. But make it interesting, throw in romance, and tragedy, and monsters. Lots of monsters." She smiled, and I realized maybe we needed someone like her, someone cracking jokes and making us forget about how screwed up our lives are.

So I told her. I started at the beginning, how Mom died, and how Dad turned us into warriors. I told her about Azazel, and how I had demon blood coursing through my veins. I told her about how I died, so I Dean sold his soul to bring me back. I told her about Dean's trip to hell, and how angels brought him back. And then I told her the little things, like how I had fellen in love with a werewolf, and how we got to search for a siren in a strip club. I told her about the little, murderous girl who was trapped in a painting, and the demon virus that made people hurt their friends and family. I told her about Bobby, and about Ellen, and Jo. I told her about everything.

She never said a word, not one, while I talked. I had to turn around a few times to make sure she wasn't asleep, but she just sat there, looking at me, and grinning.

"Why are you so happy?" I finally asked her.

"Because," She replied. "I finally get to be someone."

"Now that you know our story," I laughed. "Why don't you tell us yours?"

"It all started in the farway year of 1981," She began, smiling. "January 18th, my mother was walking home from the grocery store when she tripped and dropped her bags. A man helped her up, and it was love at first sight. They fell in love and got married, and three years later, on November 22nd, I was born.

"Two weeks after that, my dad left, didn't say why. Now I guess I know, being a demon and all. I grew up like a normal kid, with the occasional splash of revenge. I went to college, started dating Jimmy, broke up with Jimmy, killed Carrie, then I met you guys." I stared at her. How could someone so different live such a normal life?

After finishing her story, Ali stretched out in the backseat, resting her head on a blanket she had brought with her. "Night boys," she yawned. "Wake me up when we get wherever it is we're going." Within moments, I could hear her even breathing. No wonder she was tired, it was four thirty in the morning.

"Dean, I think I'm gonna get some sleep, wake me up if you want me to drive, okay?" I yawned. Dean just grunted, eyes straight ahead.

"Sam," Dean muttered. "Don't let this turn into Ruby." I tried to say something back, but I was already drifting into the dreamworld.


	3. Ali 3

Ali

I woke to sunshine dancing along my eyelids. I opened my eyes to see... a car roof? I sat up, then remembered where I was. The car was stopped, and Sam and Dean were nowhere to be found. I looked out the window to see a diner. I could see people moving around inside, so I assumed it was open. There wasn't anything else on this stretch of road, so I got out of the car, stretched, and walked inside. I looked down at my watch and saw that it was already noon, meaning I had been asleep for almost eight hours. Not too bad, I figured.

Once I was through the door, I spotted Sam and Dean sitting at a booth a few yards away from me. I walked over and pulled up a chair. "So guys," I said, with a pouty smile. "Did I miss anything? Because I noticed a distinct lack of being woken up."

"Dean was afraid you'd fry us if you were cranky, so we let you sleep," Sam chuckled.

"Bitch," Dean said, shoving Sam.

"Excuse me?" I said, raising an eyebrow. "I thought we already went over this. I am the queen bitch."

"Oh, no, not you," Sam explained. "Dean and I have a thing where he calls me a bitch and I call him a jerk."

"You two are assholes," I laughed. "So, where are we?"

"Well, we're not there yet, but we're on our way to the ghost town known as Ong's Hat, New Jersey." Sam responded.

"What, did someone see a ghost?" I joked.

"Actually, yes," Dean said.

"Local legend says that the ghost of a woman appears as the sun sets on Sunday evenings, saying she's sorry, pleading for her life." Sam explained.

"So, then why does she need the ghostbusters?" I asked, confused. If she wasn't hurting anyone, why did we need to travel to the middle of nowhere, New Jersey?

"Well, if someone is there, she notices them, then goes after them, saying it was their fault, not hers, and she strangles them."

"She sounds like fun at parties," I muttered. "So why Sundays? Why not Tuesdays, or Fridays?"

"Well," Sam started. "We think she was killed on a Sunday, and from the legend, it sounds like someone blamed her for something she didn't think she'd done."

"How did she die?" I asked.

"We're not sure, we haven't done nearly as much research as we would have hoped."

"Wait, guys, isn't today Sunday?" I questioned. "We only have a few hours to figure this all out?"

"We don't need to figure any of it out, we just need to kill it," Dean said, forcefully.

"So how do you kill a ghost?" I wondered aloud.

"Salt and burn the remains," Dean said, as if everyone knew that.

"What if you can't find the remains?" I asked. "What if there aren't any records of where they were buried, or if they were in multiple pieces and you missed a part?"

"Sometimes spirits are attached to certain items," Sam suggested. "Like a necklace, or a doll."

"What if it's trying to hurt you? What then? Do you run and scream like a little girl, or do you throw grass at it and tell it to screw off?"

"Ghosts can't cross salt circles, and iron dissipates them."

"Well gosh, I feel so prepared. I say we go hunt some ghosts!" I said with mock enthusiasm. "But first, I want some waffles."

After breakfast, we got back into the car and started to drive. I sat in the backseat, googling the history of Ong's Hat. I learned that the town was founded over a century ago, and was known for having alcohol. It was a social hub, great place to get drunk and hang out with your buddies. As time when on, the population decreased. By the early twentieth century, there were about seven residents. Two of which were a polish couple, the Chininskis, who disappeared not long after they had come to town. Several years later, hunters stumbled upon Mrs. Chininski's skeleton. Police tracked down Mr. Chininski, but nothing was proved. As a freaky memento of the unsolved case, the county sheriff kept her skull on his desk for years.

I shuddered after reading the articles. Who keeps human remains on their desk? "Hey guys, I think I found something," I said after reading a few more articles.

"What could you have found? It's been fifteen minutes," Dean demanded, skeptically.

"Well, first off, ever heard of Wikipedia?" I was getting kind of sick of Dean's... Asshole-ness. "Anyway, I found out that the ghost was Mrs. Chininski. Police thought her husband killed her, but they never proved anything. And I even have a theory."

"Oh goody, the demon has a theory," Dean mocked. That was the last straw.

"You know what Dean? I'm trying to help you, you don't have to be such a dick about it. I figured it would be easier to stop something if we knew what made it that way, we could predict how it would react to certain things. Did you know all of the victims were male? Did you know that many times, groups of men and women went ghosthunting, and the woman were never touched by this ghost, while the men were strangled? Every time.

"And did you know that when questioned, Mr. Chininski said his wife had been cheating on him with their neighbor, Alan Gregory? Who was strangled about a week after the couple left town? His murderer was never caught. So when I say that I have a theory, are you going to mock me again, or do you want to hear what just might save your asses?" I finished my speech and was greeted with a stunned silence.

"I'll take that as a yes," I smiled, starting up again. "So I'm thinking, Mrs. Chininski cheats on her husband with their neighbor, and her husband finds out. He freaks, kills her, stashes her body somewhere, and leaves town. Dear old dead wifey blames Alan, maybe he told the husband, maybe he started the cheating by hitting on her, I'm not sure. She blames him for her death, so she kills him.

"Because she's a ghost though, she decides to stick around and haunt and shit like that. Whenever people stumble upon her shack of a house, which happens to be the only one left standing, she kills the guys because she's pissed off at guys as a whole. She spares the girl because she doesn't feel the need to kill them, killing the guys is enough for her. In my research, it says her bones were cremated, except the skull, which we should hunt down before tomorrow night, or she'll go after you two chuckle heads."

"Sounds plausible," Dean muttered.

"Plausible? Dean, she just did hours worth of research and speculating in twenty minutes," Sam said, looking at me in a new light. "Ali, you're a genius."

"I like to think so," I smiled. "But we can thank my phone for most of that. Anyway, I looked up the sheriff, and he's still alive. He's in a nursing home though, but I could probably get in to talk to him."

"How? We don't have any fake IDs for you yet," Dean asked, his first words since I yelled at him.

"I don't think I'll need one, I can just say I'm doing a school project. Because honestly, how old do you guys think I am?"

"20?" Sam asked, hesitantly.

"I'm turning 25 next week," I replied. "I'll tell them for my college course, I need to talk to people who worked as law enforcers. I'm surprisingly good at making up plausible stories, I'll make it work."

"So, where's this nursing home?" Dean asked, slowing down the car.

"About twenty minutes from here." I gave him directions, then relaxed into my seat. I spent the rest of the ride fabricating a story. When we pulled up, I hopped out. "Okay, you guys get lost. If you stay here, I'll look suspicious. I'll call you when I'm done. Go get burgers or something." As they drove away, I wondered if everyday with them would be like this. Googling,theorizing, acting. I could get used to a life like this.

I walked into the building and headed straight for the front desk. "Hi, I'm here to visit Elliot Shepards?"

"Alright," the nurse smiled. "Who should I say is visiting?"

"A fan," I said. "You know he used to be a sheriff and a detective? I've read up on some of the cases he closed, and I'll have to say, he was amazing."

The nurse lead me down a brightly-lit hallway, stopping at a door marked Shepards. She pushed the door open, calling out to Elliot. "Mr. Shepards? You have a visitor."

"Who would want to visit little old me?" I heard him say. The desk chair spun around to reveal an old man, wrinkled and speckled, but smiling.

I stepped forward. "Hi, my name is Ali, and I've been reading up on some of the cases you worked on back in the day." His face lit up in a way that told me he loved talking about the glory days, and it made me smile. I may be on a ghost hunt, but at least I made an old man smile. The nurse left us alone, going back to whatever it is she was doing before.

"So little lady, what do you want to talk about?" He motioned me over towards him, patting the chair by the window.

"Well, I read about the Chininski's, from Ong's Hat, and I read about how you kept the skull of Mrs. Chininski as a memento?"

"I did indeed. That thing sat on my desk in a glass box for ten years."

"What did you do with the skull after that?" I asked, trying not to sound too interested in the skull itself.

"I still have it," he said, gesturing towards a glass box on his desk. I walked over to it.

"This is it?" I asked, awestruck. Was it really this easy?

"It is," He smiled. "You know, that was one of my first big cases. I was twenty-one, just joined the force. It was in the middle of the day when we got a call from some spooked hunters, claiming they found a skeleton. We thought they were just pulling a prank, but sure enough, there was a skeleton alright."

I had the skull in my hand, now all I needed was for the old man to take a restroom break or something. Seconds after that thought crossed my mind, Elliot got up and reached for his cane. "Where are you going?" I asked.

"I'm old, I need to pee." My eyes widened. As he left, I grabbed the glass box and put it in my coat pocket. It was surprisingly small, and fit well. As I walked out of the room, I grinned. I just used my powers, I thought.

"It was great talking with you Mr. Shepards, but I need to get going. I hope you have a great day!" I called out on my way through the door. Once I was out front, I called Sam. "I got it," I said into the phone.

"You actually have the skull in your possession?" He asked, skeptically.

"Yes, I have it. Shepards had it in his room and I swiped it while he peed. Hurry up before the guilt of stealing from an old man gets to me." I sat down on a bench.

"We'll be there in a few minutes, act natural," Sam said.

"I got this," I hung up. I pulled out my phone and pretended to be text someone. I even smiled and laughed at random intervals. Ten minutes later, Sam and Dean pulled up. I slid into the back seat, pulling the skull from my pocket. Once I closed the door, we were off.

"How did you get the skull? You were there for like fifteen minutes," Dean inquired.

"He still had it with him and I think I used my powers to get him to use the restroom, so I grabbed it and left. I feel kind of bad about it though," I said.

"Why?" Sam asked. "We're killing a ghost. We're saving lives."

"But when he talked about this, his only memento of his first case, his eyes lit up," I explained. "Now that we have the skull, I've been meaning to ask, can we go visit this ghost town? I've never been to one, and I've got to say, I'm intrigued."

"Well," Dean said. "Whenever things go this well, it means we're missing something. We should probably check it out, just to make sure." So for the next couple hours, I listened to classic rock, and Dean's off-tune singing. At around four thirty in the afternoon, we reached Ong's Hat.

I stepped out of the car to be greeted by a blast of November wind. I pulled my jacket closer to my body, zipping it up. I looked around, taking in my surroundings. There was yellowed grass as far as the eye could see, and plenty of dead trees. To my left was what remained of a shack, leaning precariously in the wind. I watched Sam and Dean take the skull out of the box and douse it with something I figured to be gasoline.

I started towards the house, wanting to get a closer look. So this is what a real haunted house looks like, I thought. I stepped inside, hearing the wood creak beneath my feet. I walked through a doorway to find a room which I assumed was the bedroom. A bookshelf stood in one corner of the room, filled with books. I stepped closer and realized they were rotted and falling apart. I saw a desk in another corner of the room. I walked over and pulled out a drawer, finding a silver locket on a long chain inside. I popped open the locket to see a picture of a young woman, smiling. Inside was also a curl of brown hair. I looked out the empty doorway to see that the sun was setting. I looked back down at the locket.

"Guys!" I yelled. "We missed something!" I ran towards the door, but something stopped me, and invisible wall. "Guys! I found a curl of hair and I think it was hers!" Dean turned his head, as if he were looking for me. I realized they couldn't hear me. I tried to push through whatever was holding me in, but it was no use. I turned around only to find the house was no longer falling apart, but instead looked as if it had been built last month. I looked back towards the bedroom to see a figure on her knees, pleading to someone invisible. It was starting.

I looked around the room, frantically, for a way out. There were no windows, a door had appeared in the frame, and I could hear Mrs. Chininski begging, pleading, and crying. Out of curiosity, I walked over towards her room. I figured she couldn't hurt me, she only ever went after the guys. I reached the doorway and saw that Mrs. Chininski was an echo of a once beautiful woman. In the locket, her features were delicate, her face a light pink. What stood before me looked as if someone had taken a picture of her, then printed her out with the last of an ink cartridge. Her skin was gray, her features smudged. She looked now as if someone were holding their hands around her neck, cutting off her air supply. She struggled, until she saw me.

Her eyes met mine, and I immediately felt the temperature drop. She stood up, and rasped, "You. This is all your fault!" I stepped back, trying not to trip over anything.

"No, look, Mrs. Chininski, you're dead," I tried. that worked sometimes in the movies. "It was Alan, not me! I'm a girl, see? You don't hurt girls!" My words had no effect on her. I kept retreating until my back was pressed up against the door. I reached into my pockets, looking for something, anything that I could use. All that was there was my wallet, the locket and a packet of sugar from the diner we went to earlier. Wait no, it wasn't sugar. It was salt!

I pulled the packet from my pocket and ripped it open, throwing it at Mrs. Chininski. She screamed, and I felt the door behind me disappear. I turned and ran, I didn't want to be there when she got her strength back. I ran to where Sam and Dean were standing, watching the skull burn. Dean saw me run up, then he saw the ghost chasing me. "What the-?"

"Locket," I gasped. "Hair." I pulled it out of my pocket and showed it to them. The ghost was getting closer, disappearing then reappearing like a computer glitch. I pulled the hair out of the locket and threw it on the fire, and watched as Mrs. Chininksi burned up, just inches from my face.

* * *

**Okay so I want to say a few things about this chapter. First off, oh my god there were a lot of typos in the first chapter. That's probably because I wrote it on my iPad. **

**Another thing I want to say is that Ong's Hat is a real place in New Jersey. It is a ghost town, and there was a man and his wife named Chininski. She was murdered, he was questioned, nothing was ever proven. Look it up on wikipedia, it's actually pretty cool. Also, the detective/sheriff, his name wasn't Elliot Shepard. It was Ellis Parker, and he's real too. He solved some interesting cases. Google Sheriff Ellis Parker, Burlington County. **

**Finally, I want to say yayyyyy 70 views in four days! And yaaaay a review! But I would literally be over the moon if you guys reviewed for every chapter. Even visitors can review. I don't even care what you write, you could recite digits of pi for all I care. **

**Stay fabulous.  
-Fox**


	4. Sam 4

**Okay so I really like how this chapter ended up. You know what's fun? Fluff. I ****_really _****like fluff. By the way, I feel like Sam is really ooc at the end of the chapter so I apologize in advance. **

**Also, YAYYYY 135 views you guys are so awesome. Do you guys like the story? Because idk if I do. It's definitely longer than what I usually do, (Oneshots that re about 2.5k words) but I'm pretty proud of how this is now 10k words.**

**So I'm watching season 5 of Supernatural, and just saying, Ali is ****not**** the anti-christ. Glad I cleared that up. Alrighty, I hope you enjoy.  
-Fox**

* * *

Sam

Back in the impala, we drove in silence. Ali was acting like being locked in a house with a ghost didn't bother her in the slightest, but I could tell she was pretty shaken up. Whenever we went over a speedbump or a pothole, she would jump a little. I felt bad, because we shouldn't have let her wander around in a haunted house by herself. When we couldn't find her, we should have done something, instead of dismissing it as 'she's probably just exploring'.

After about a couple hours of driving, Ali had been really quiet. I turned around, expecting her to be reading, or on her phone, or something. Instead, she was curled up in a little ball, wrapped in her blanket. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted a little bit. Her even breathing signaled that she was asleep. Her eyes fliuttered, the corners of her mouth turned down, and I realized she was dreaming what looked to be rather unpleasant. I sighed, remembering my first ghost. I had nightmares for a week.

"So, Dean, where are we going next?" I asked, since Dean was the one who had been going through Dad's notebook earlier.

"Nowhere specific," He replied. "You've got three months, remember? We're going somewhere where you and Ali can bond over sucky things like demon blood." I was about to say anything when a flash of light burst from the back seat.

"Dean! Sam! There's a vengance demon following you and-" It was Cas. "Why is there a vengance demon asleep in the back of your car? I do not understand."

"Shit Cas," Dean said, swerving. "You could've just called."

"You still have not answered my question. Why is there a demon sleeping in your backseat? Why is she so small?" Cas asked, looking very confused.

"That's Ali," I said. "She's only half demon, and we're trying to help her. Don't obliterate her, please." Just then Ali screamed, and bolted upright. She blinked her eyes, turned and saw Cas, then screamed again.

"Damnit, can't I just drive in peace?" Dean shouted.

"Sorry," Ali apologized. Then she looked back at Cas. "Who are you, and how long have you been here?"

"I," Cas started, "am Castiel, and I am an angel of The Lord."

"Well isn't that dandy," Ali replied sarcastically. "Why are you here? Like, in this car?"

"I came to warn them about you, but that was before I realized your intentions," Cas responded.

"So are you friends with those two?" Ali asked, trying to make sense of her situation.

"In a way, yes."

"Can they summon you?"

"No, but I can hear their prayers, does that count?"

"So they can't just say 'ay yo Cassie we need you'?" I almost did a spit take. Did Ali just call Cas 'Cassie'?

"Well, I guess they could, if they thought it hard enough..." Cas responded, pondering it for a moment.

"Wait," Dean spoke up. "So we can call you Cassie?" He laughed. "Maybe this demon isn't useless after all."

"The demon can hear you," Ali said, frowning. "The demon would also like to request a rest stop. I need to pee."

"Girls always need to pee," Dean grumbled.

"We've been driving for like three hours and I haven't asked for a rest stop in the entire time I've known you. Look, there's a sign for a rest stop, I'll be like ten minutes tops. There probably won't even be anyone there, it's like eight or nine on a Sunday night. Everyone's already home." Dean begrudgingly pulled into the rest stop, and Ali hopped out and disappeared into the building.

"That one sure has a sharp tongue," Cas said as she left.

"Dean makes fun of her, she sasses back, it's hilarious," I smiled.

"Dean, why do you dislike her so much?" Cas asked, frowning."She seems like such a likable person."

"She's a demon," Dean supplied.

"Her intentions are pure," Cas stated. "Has she done anything to hurt you?"

"Dean, don't be such a racist," I said, supressing a smile. Then Ali came skipping out of the rest stop, smiling. I've never known a hunter to skip. Was I thinking of her as a hunter now?

"I'm back!" She sang, sliding into her seat. In her hand was a disposable tray with four cups of coffee. She handed on to Cas, who looked down at the cup in confusion, one to Dean, then on to me. She then took the last cup and took a huge gulp. "I brought coffee," She said, smiling.

"Thanks," I said. I'm willing to bet the reason seh brought coffee was because she didn't want to fall asleep. Afterall, she did wake up screaming only moments ago.

"What is coffee?" Cas asked, still staring at his cup.

"It's like the opposite of a sleeping potion," Ali explained. "It's loaded with caffine and sugar, which'll keep you up for hours." Cas took a sip tentatively, wrinkling his nose at the bitter taste.

"I do not like this," He said, taking another sip anyway. And then, in a flash, he was gone.

"So, where are we going next?" Ali asked, pulling out a silver laptop and some earbuds out of her backpack.

"Somewhere to start training," Dean responded, his voice less icy than before. Ali nodded, then popped her earbuds into her ears, and started bobbing her head along to some song as her fingers flew across the keys.

"What are you doing?" I asked, watching her type.

"Kind of like a diary," She responded. "More of an autobiography. I'm thinking if I actually manage to be as good as you guys, I'm going to leave behind a legacy, but I assume that no one lasts very long in this line of work. So this is kind of my way of helping people, so that they can learn from my mistakes. Lesson number one being, don't wander into haunted houses without salt, iron, and a wingman." She popped her earbud back into her ear and continued typing.

A few hours later, we pulled up to the Pinecone Motel. As Dean went to check in, I poked Ali. She had fallen asleep again, but still had music playing from her laptop. The screen had dimmed from the lack of usage, but it was still on her lap. I could feel the heat it gave off. I poked her again. She grunted. "No, stop it," She mumbled. "Stop!" She spoke forcefully.

"Ali? Wake up, we're here," I tried.

"Get away from me!" She said, and I realized she was dreaming. Her face looked pained.

I shook her shoulders. "Ali, wake up! It's just a dream." I shook her harder. Her eyes popped open, and she stared at me.

"Hi," She said slowly. "Why are your hands pinning me to the seat?"

"Oh, sorry," I said, pulling away. "You were talking in you sleep, I was trying to wake you up. We're here," I said, gesturing at the motel.

Her face turned red. "I was? Thanks waking me up." She stretched her arms, yawning. She shoved her laptop back into her backpack, grabbed her things, and stepped out of the car. She and I walked up to Dean, who had just exited the main building. He was heading for the impala, but stopped when he saw us walking towards him.

"Here are the room keys," Dean said, handing one to each of us. "Ali, your room is across the hall from Sam and I." She took the key and nodded, heading for the rooms. I watched her walk away. She walked with teh confidence of someone who knew their place in the world, someone who knew who they wanted to be. Dean turned to me. "See those woods behind the motel?" He gestured. "There's a clearing about a quarter mile back, surrounded by trees. No one will know we're there."

"How do you know that?" I asked.

"Cassie," He said, chuckling. I laughed too, that really was a goldmine Ali showed us. We walked to our room, and didn't even bother turning on the lights, we just threw our stuff on the ground and got into bed.

Three hours later, I woke to an alarm clock buzzing in my ear. I slowly opened my eyes to see Dean grinning. "Up and at 'em!" He said. I glared.

"Why so early?" I asked, putting a pillow over my head.

"You want Ali grumpy, right? When girls don't sleep, they get pissy." I groaned, but I knew he was right. We might not be able to make Ali mad enough unless we pushed her over the edge. I got dressed, then walked across the hall, knocking on Ali's door. As I had expected, no response.

I turned to Dean. "If we can't get to her, how are we going to wake her up?" I asked, getting ready to go back to bed. Dean gave me a devious smile, then produced a spare room key. He twisted it in the doorknob, pulled it back out, then swung open the door. I rolled my eyes, then stepped into the dark room. "Dean," I hesitated. "What if she sleeps in her underwear?"

"Just go, you wimp." Dean pushed me. "I'll do it if you wont." That was the last thing I wanted. For some reason, it felt wrong for Dean to be this... not-douchey.

I walked over to the bed where I saw Ali, her face completely serene. I sighed, then flipped on a light, shaking her shoulders. "Ali! Wake up! We're starting training early, we've got a big day ahead of us!" I tried to sound happy, but I felt bad. With her nightmares recently, she might not be having the best of rests.

She opened her eyes, looked at me, then the clock, then back at me. "No," She said, turning over and hiding under the covers.

Dean walked over to her, slapped the back of her head, then smiled. "Wake up, we've got things to do." Ali emerged from her blanket cocoon, one eyebrow raised.

"We've been here for three hours," She said, voice raising. "What could possibly be so damn important?!"

"Training!" Dean said, grinning. She groaned, then threw back the covers.

"Get out, I need to change," She said, glaring at us. "I'll be ready in five minutes." She shooed us into the hall, then came out, five minutes later in jeans, hiking boots, and her jacket. We headed out of the motel, and into the woods. After we hiked a quarter mile, we arrived in a clearing, just as Dean had said there would be.

"Ali," I started. "I'm going to try and make you angry. I want you to try and harness your powers, and try to use them on me. Don't hold back, just try not to kill me," I said.

"How are you going to make me angry?" She asked.

"I uh," I hadn't actually thought that far. "You have bed head?"

Dean sighed. "Let me," He said.

"Are you sure?" Ali asked.

"What, do you think a lowlife demon like you scares me? You're just a little girl," Dean said. I could see Ali's shoulders tense.

"I'm almost 25!" She yelled.

"Of course you are," Dean said. "Except you act like such a baby all the time. You're either sleeping or screaming, sometimes both. Oh wait, I forgot, that's because you're a girl." I saw Ali's face tighten with anger. I couldn't tell if Dean was pushing it too hard, or not enough. "Oh, am I making the little demon angry? What's the weakling going to do, poke me?" I saw something in Ali snapped.

"You want to see what a little girl can do? Watch," She spat. Then she closed her eyes and focused. I looked back at Dean, and saw his shoulders shrinking, his hair growing, and his chest expanding. He got shorter and thinner, until it wasn't Dean standing there, but a woman in Dean's clothes which had shrunk to fit his form.

"What are you all staring at?" Came a voice several pitches higher than Dean's natural tone. He put a hand to his mouth. "Oh shit, what did you do?" He looked down, then back up at Ali. "You bitch."

"Sam," Ali said grinning. "May I present to you, Diana Winchester. Diana, be glad I made you pretty." Dean looked down again, then groaned.

"I don't wanna be a girl!" He whined. "Girls are so lame!"

"Dude," I said. "You sound like you're eight." Just then, Cas appeared behind Dean.

"Where's Dean?" He asked, looking around. He layed eyes on Dean.

"You there, do you know where Dean is?" He asked.

"I am Dean," Dean responded.

"No," Cas said, wrinkling his nose. "You are a woman. Dean is not a woman."

"He is now!" Ali called, laughing. "Cassie my friend, you have just stumbled upon my first successful display of power."

"My name is Castiel," He grumped. "I demand that you change Dean back."

"Wait," Dean interupted. "Can it wait a day?"

Cas looked at Dean skeptically. "Why would you not want to be restored to your former self immediately?"

I spoke up. "He probably wants to look at himself naked." Dean blushed.

"Pfft, what? No I, uh... Okay yes, alright?" Dean glared at me.

"You have an hour," Ali said, laughing. "Knock yourself out."

"Wait, Dean," Cas said. "Can I come with you? I still need to talk to you." Dean rolled his eyes, but nodded, and then they were gone, leaving Ali and I alone.

"Are those two a thing?" Ali asked, laughing a little bit.

"I'm not sure," I said, grinning. "I think they might be. Do you actually know how to turn him back?"

"No, not really," She admitted. "But I'm sure I'll figure it out. So, what are we going to do for the rest of the day?" That was a good question. Dean and Cas were no doubt occupying the room, so I wouldn't be able to get to my laptop.

"I think they have a pool here," I said, shrugging. Ali muttered something that I didn't catch. "What was that?" I asked.

"I can't swim," She said, looking sheepish. I gaped at her.

"You can't swim? How can you not know how to swim?" I asked.

"I just never learned, okay?" Her face turned red.

"Do you want to learn?" I inquired. "I could teach you." Her face turned even redder.

"You're not going to take no as an answer, are you," She said, giving in. And so, twenty minutes later, Ali stood on the edge of the pool, staring down at me. She looked nervous, her knees turned inward, her legs shaking slightly.

"Come on," I said. "It's not that bad, plus you can stand here."

"Do I really have to get in?" She asked, staring at the blue-green water. I gave her a look, and she rolled her eyes then sat down on the edge of the pool, dipping her toes into the water. She slipped on leg in, then the other, then pushed off the edge, falling into the pool. She shivered, and I could see goosebumps appear on her skin. The water went up to just below her shoulders.

"Are you okay with going a little deeper?" I asked. "It's not that deep here."

"Maybe not for you, but you're like thirteen inches taller than me,"She said. But she moved so that the water was up to her neck.

"Okay, what can you do?" I wondered aloud.

"I can do a handstand," She said, then dove under to demonstrate. She came up a few seconds after.

"Wait," I asked, confused. "You can do an underwater handstand, but you can't swim?"

"Yeah, so?"

"You do realize that swimming is like twice as easy as doing a handstand? You just move your arms and legs ocaisonally coming up for air."

"Well then if it's so easy, why can't I do it?"

"Have you actually tried to swim any time recently?"

"No, but I mean-"

"Just try." And she did. She put her head under, kicked her legs, and moved her arms, and swam to the edge of the pool. "Where are you going?" I asked, watching her pull herself out of the pool.

"Look, I swam, now can I leave? I'm tired." As she spoke, I noticed dark circles beginning to form under her eyes. I felt bad, I had forgotten we had only let her sleep for three hours. Dean and I were used to not sleeping, but she wasn't as hardened.

"Sure, but you should probably change Dean back first," I suggested. I got out of the pool and reached for my towel, drying off my hair. She shrugged, then closed her eyes, her nose wrinkled. After a few seconds, she opened them.

"He should be good." And with that, she left, clutching the towel to her body tightly.

* * *

**Idk I just wanted to put in some Destiel, don't judge. Oh, did you guys know that Destiel in latin is literally lack of God? (Des= Lack Stiel= of God)**

**The last part felt awkward. It was supposed to, I guess, but maybe I only see that because I was writing it, not reading. Eh, whatever. **

**Are these frequent updates good or annoying? Like idk I just like writing, but I can hold off on posting if it bugs you guys.  
-Fox**


	5. Ali 5

**As much as I hate to say it, I think this story is going to come to an end soon-ish. And by that, I mean you'll get maybe three more chapters. I might write an epilogue, but I don't know, I just feel like things are closing off. Also, this story is an eventual romance. I love writing the build-up, the confessions of love, the emotional angst and confusion, but I hate writing the afterwards, the couple-y stuff, because then it just gets boring, you know? Depending on how this story is going when I get to the end of what I have mapped out, (I have a story time line to help prevent writer's block) I'll know whether or not I'll keep going. But I mean, if you guys like the story, review! I have no idea if you guys like where the story is headed, if you even care, so I don't know if I should even bother with continuing the story after I get to where I was planning on ending it. **

**Oh, and as for this chapter, you get a hint as to what you're about to read. Two words: Ball Pit.**

**Please review, it makes my day.  
-Fox**

* * *

Ali

I rushed back to my room and shut the door behind me, walking into the bathroom so I could shower. I hated swimming pools.I hated everything about them. I hated the smell of sunblock and chlorine, the feel of the water, the lack of air in your lungs. It all brought up bad memories.

I was only seven. It was June, the pools had just opened for the summer, and I had begged my mom to take me. I didn't know how to swim, but that didn't stop me. I stayed in the shallow end doing handstands with my friend Emma. She taught me how, and we would laugh and tumble for hours. But Emma knew how to swim, so every so often, she would go off the diving board a few times. I would watch from the side, cheer her on.

One time, she was gone for longer than usual. She was talking with a girl who looked to be about our age. I got jealous, so I walked over to her. I told her I was going to do a flip off the diving board. At this point in our childhood, flips were the pinacle of cool. Emma pointed out that I couldn't swim, but I'd seen her do it hundreds of times. I figured it couldn't be that much harder than handstands.

I climbed onto the diving board, and as I stood above the water, I could see the light refracting along the bottom of the pool. It had looked so pretty. So I jumped and twisted my body, attempting to flip. But I landed wrong, my arm was hurt. I couldn't move it without excruciating pain. (I'm sure it wasn't really that bad, but to s seven year old, it was hell.) So I drifted in the silky blue-green water, trying desperately to keep my head above the water for what felt like an eternity. Why wasn't someone jumping in to save me, I had thought. It turns out that the lifegaurds had called break and were in the bathroom or something.

I swallowed about a pint of water, and my vision started to fade to black. I remember looking down at the bottom of the pool, my vision blurred and dark, thinking the light wasn't so pretty anymore.

I woke up to a pretty blonde life guard pressing on my chest. I coughed, sucking air into my lungs. I remember Emma looking at me with pity, like I was a kicked puppy. That day has haunted me for eighteen years.

As I washed the chlorine out of my hair, I thought about Sam. I thought about his ridiculously long hair, and I thought about all that plaid. I'd known the guy three days, and not one d=time did I see him without plaid on. Even his baithing suit was plaid.

Then I thought about swimming. I thought about the way he looked at me when I said I couldn't swim, like he couldn't imagine a single twenty-four year old in existence who couldn't swim. I knew it was a bit weird, but I hadn't thought it that weird. I really didn't want to go to the pool with him, but he looked so happy when I had said yes.

But then I had to dig up my old bathing suit I hadn't worn since high school. It was a red one-piece with white polka dots. It was a little small, and rather low cut. I didn't even know why I had brought it, and I kind of wish I hadn't. If I didn't have a bathing suit with me, I wouldn't have had to go swimming, thus never embarrassing myself. Just remembering the pool made my face heat up.

I turned off the shower, grabbing the towel that hung on a railing right outside of the shower. I wrapped it around my body, then grabbed another to wrap aound my hair. I shivered as I stepped out of the steam-filled bathroom into my room. I pulled on my jeans from earlier, but grabbed a different top an oversized sweatshirt. I grabbed my laptop and sat down on my bed, preparing to write about the day so far, but instead I fell asleep.

I opened my eyes, but instead of being in bed with my laptop next to me and the fan swirling overhead, I was back in the clearing in the woods. Instead of the sun rising, like it had been this morning, it was dark, as if it were midnight. I could see the moon hanging in the sky, a brilliant white light cutting through the dark. I looked around the clearing to see Sam and Dean, as well as Jimmy, Carrie, and my mother.

Dean stepped forward, a wicked grin on his face."Worthless demon scum," he said, slapping my face. "You useless piece of trash." I tried to say something back, but all that came out was a whimper. "What, are you gonna cry? Like a little girl?" I whimpered again, and then tears started to fall down my face.

"He's right, you know," Sam said. "What kind of person doesn't even know how to swim? It's literally just moving your arms up and down."

"And you're so stupid," My mother laughed. "You never got a straight A report card in your life! I can't believe you're such an idiot. I always had perfect grades, my parents loved me." My tears were gushing now.

"I-I'm sorry Mom, I tried my best!" I tried.

"Your best obviously wasn't good enough," She spat.

"You're just awful," Jimmy said, joining my mother and the Winchesters. "Why do you think I cheated on you? You're boring, and you're not even that pretty. I was really only dating you out of pity." He put his arm around Carrie who had joined the rest, making a circle of torment.

"You stupid, worthless, ugly bitch," Carrie started. "You killed me and my baby. Thats like, two people. How could you do that? You horrible, heartless demon." And then they all started chanting words. Worthess. Stupid. Idiotic. Demon. Evil. Ugly. Boring. Scum.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," I said, choking on tears. "I'm sorry," I repeated. Over and over and over. I felt something shaking me, and the darkness faded as I opened my eyes to see Sam. "Why is it that whenever I wake up, it's because you're shaking me?" I asked.

"We were going to go get some lunch," He said. "We were wondering if you wanted to come. So I came in here, looking for you, and I see you crying and saying you're sorry over and over again."

"Oh, just a bad dream," I say, reassuring not only Sam, but myself as well.

The next week passed in a blur. We did a few more training exercises, and then we went to somewhere in Nevada to kill a nest of vampires. I was still having nightmares, but they weren't nearly as bad. I only sleep-screamed once, which was saying something. I also learned to never refer to the car as simply 'the car'. Dean heard me call it that once, told me something about barrels and 1967, then made me kiss the winshield as an apology to his precious impala.

Things were going great, all things considered. Nothing really interesting happened until one day, as we were driving to yet another motel in yet another town in the middle of nowhere, Dean said something to Sam about a bakery.

"What was that?" I asked.

"Uh, nothing," Sam said, letting me know that it was obviously something.

"What is it?" I pleaded. "Tell me!" Sam and Dean were the last people on Earth I would expect to be talking about bakeries.

"You'll find out soon enough," Dean said. About an hour later, we pulled up to a little bakery and Dean got out, and went inside.

"Where's he going?" I asked Sam.

"He'll be back soon, don't worry." And sure enough, five minutes later, Dean emerged from the bakery with two white boxes in his hands. "Stay here," Sam said, getting out. I let out an aggrivated sigh, but stayed where I was. Sam walked over to Dean, opened the smaller of the two boxes and smiled, closing it again. I rolled down a window.

"Would you two assholes just tell me what's in the damn boxes?" I called out.

"Paitence, young grasshopper," Dean said, smiling. They got back in the car, then Sam handed me the smaller box,while Dean held onto the larger box tightly, as if it might run away from him.

I opened the box to see a slice of cake that had 25 written in green icing. "Guys," I said, my face split by a smile. "How did you know it was my birthday?"

"The first night we met you," Sam replied. "When we were exchanging stories. You mentioned your birthday was November 22nd."

"You remembered that?" I asked, flabbergasted. "And you went all this way just for a slice of cake?"

"Don't flatter yourself," Dean smirked. "We came for the pie. This place makes the best pies in the whole country, and last night I decided I wanted some. But then Sam remembered it was your birthday, so we called and asked them to set aside a slice of cake and to write something on it."

The next few weeks were full of killing and training, moving from one motel to another. I finally got some fake IDs, I even bought a pencil skirt. I learned how to shoot a gun, I memorized the exorcism incantation, I honed my powers, and I realized how hard Sam and Dean had it. They never really got to be kids.

One day I said something about a ball pit, and they both had no idea what I was talking about. The idea that someone never knew the joys of a ball pit really made me think about what being a hunter was really like. I mean, who's never been in a ball pit?

One day, when we had come to a town for training, I told Sam and Dean I had a surprise for them. I made them put on blind folds, then I lead them around back of the motel. "Ali, this is dumb, just let us see," Dean complained.

"In a minute," I tsked. Then I pulled off their blindfolds and stepped back to see their reactions.

"What are we looking at?" Sam asked, confused.

"A ball pit!" I cheered.

"Why are we out here?" Dean asked.

"You two are going to sit there and enjoy this goddamn ball pit," I said, forcefully.

"This is dumb, I'm going back inside," Dean said, walking away.

"Get back here!" I said, grabbing one of the balls, launching it at his head. It hit him in the back of the neck, and he turned slowly.

"Did you just throw a ball at me?" Dean asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Maybe," I grinned. Then I threw one at Sam, hitting his cheek.

"You do realize this means war, right?" Sam said, stepping toward the ball pit and picking up three balls. He threw them at my head, and I ducked two of them, but the last one hit my nose. Dean joined in, but threw a ball at Sam as well as at me. Within minutes, it was a flat out battlefield. I had aimed a ball at Dean and as I threw, Castiel appeared in front of Dean, and the ball bounced off his back.

"Oh hi Castiel, how are you?" I called, laughing. "Care to join the battle?"

"What battle?" He said, looking around. "Why are there plastic balls every where?"

"It's Ali's fault," Sam said, throwing another ball at my face. I ducked, and it flew above my head, hitting a tree behind me.

"I may have fired the first shot, but it was you who declared war," I said, tossing another ball.

"Is that a ball pit?" Cas asked, stepping towards it.

"See guys?" I said. "Even the angel knows what a ball pit is!"

"Ball pits are for small children to sit in, you are not using it right," Cas picked up a ball and studied it.

"Cas, why are you here?" Dean asked, walking over to the angel.

Cas looked over at me, then spoke. "May I speak with you two seperately?" He asked, gesturing for Sam and Dean to follow him.

"Oh sure," I said sarcastically. "Stick me with cleanup. This is racism, I tell you. It's because I'm a demon. isn't it?" I pretended to wipe a tear from my cheek. "Fine, go, leave me to bury my sorrows in this ball pit." They walked away, not saying a word. No one appreciates my humor.

I looked around to see that there were balls everywhere. It would take me an hour to make sure I had all of them. I sighed, then bent over to pick up the ball by my foot. Then I remembered I had demon powers. I tried to focus, imagining all the balls floating up from where they were and finding their way back to the ball pit. My powers were harder to use when I wasn't angry, so I tried to think of infuritating things, like sexist assholes and commercial breaks.

I looked up to see about a hundred brightly colored plastic balls floating around me. It was a magical moment, standing in a swarm of plastic. Just then, Sam, Dean, and Cas all came back. My concentration broke, and all the balls fell, crashing down around me.

"What are you doing?" Sam asked, watching the balls fall.

"Cleaning up, the fun way," I supplied. "Since you assholes left me to clean up by myself, I was trying to make it go faster, but then you guys ruined it. Thanks for that, by the way." I picked up and armful of balls and walked over to the ball pit, dropping them in. "By the way Cas, secrets, secrets, are no fun, unless they're shared with everyone."

"If a secret is shared with everyone, it is no longer a secret," Cas shook his head.

"So I assume whatever it is you guys were talking about, I'm not allowed to know?" I asked.

"You got it," Dean said.

"Since you're all done being secrative, you guys could give me a hand here," I complained.

Sam looked around at the mess surrounding us. "I uh, have some things I need to do," he said, turning away from me.

"Dean?" I asked.

"Yeah, I'm gonna go help Sam with those 'things'."

"You guys are dicks," I said. "And Castiel, I assume you have somewhere to be as well?"

"Yes, actually," He said, disappearing. I sighed, then tried to focus and use my powers to get all the balls back in the pit, but my powers only worked half of the time. After about an hour of picking up balls, I was done. I walked back into the motel, muttering profanity under my breath. I was going to kill the WInchesters. When I got to my room, I was about to pull out my laptop and write, when a man walked out of the bathroom.

"Who the hell are you?" I yelled, reaching for my backpack. That was where I kept my gun, a knife, some holy water, and other hunting necessities.

"Calm down," He said, walking over to me. "I mean you no harm."

"How did you get in here?" I demanded, grabbing the holy water. I opened it up, and splashed it on him. It sizzled, and he grimaced. His eyes turned black.

"Wait, it's not what you think," He said, stepping away from me, putting his hands above his head to show he was unarmed.

"What I think is that a demon broke into my room and thinks he can get away with it. Explain yourself!" I shouted. Then he said the four words I was least expecting.

"It's me, your father."

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**Sorry for the shorter chapter, I've kind of got writer's block. Middle chapters are the worst, because they're really just filler I guess. They're not as big as the beginning, which has all the introductions, and the problem presents itself, things like that, and then the end has all the emotional confessions and death and crap, but then the middle is just like "Hello, I'm only here because my mom made me." Ugh whatever. I'll try and make the next chapter extra long.**

**Do you guys think that Cas ever looks at Dean and thinks "you have a really nice butt. I want to touch your really nice butt." and then he thinks about Dean's butt for a really long time? Because I think he does. **

**Okay bye.  
-Fox**


	6. Sam & Ali 6

**Okay so this chapter is actually kind of weird just because only the first 600 words or so are in Sam's perspective. The rest is in Ali's. Oh, and I'm sorry that I was gone for two days, I lost my laptop charger again, plus I just started reading Twist and Shout. **

**I figured out how I'm going to end the story. You'll get I'm thinking, two more chapters, plus an epilogue, and a bonus, what fem!Dean and Cas did with their hour. I hope you guys like this chapter, because I don't really know if I do. **

**-Fox**

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Sam

When Cas pulled us aside, his face was grim. "What is it?" Dean asked.

"It's about the girl," Cas said, glancing back at Ali. She was standing next to the ball pit, squeezing her eyes shut. "Well, her father, to be more exact."

"What about her father?" I asked.

"I have been trying to find him, to get a better understanding of who and what Ali is, and what I've found is rather troubling. His name is Dolus. He is one of the few demons who can walk the earth without a vessel. He is the father of all vengance demons, all of which are human-demon hybrids."

"So her dad's a powerful demon, what does that have to do with Ali?" I asked.

"Many of his children try to do good, like Ali. Those ones are the strongest. Except if he hears of their whereabouts, he will go to them, and convince them to follow in his footsteps."

"Ali's strong, she's not just gonna snap," Dean said.

"Wait, isn't Dolus latin for deception? I asked, starting to worry. I thought I'd heard that name before. If he was who I thought he was, we were all screwed. He was famous for getting the best of people to succumb to murder, making them think what they were doing was right.

"It is," Cas answered. "If he can convince Ali to join him, there's no telling what she'll do. The better the person, the more damage they can do."

"So, why don't we just warn her about her dad?" I asked. "If she's as strong as we're all thinking, if she knows he's coming, she can prepare herself. Forewarned is forearmed."

"She can't know," Cas said, forcefully. "We are going to kill her father, and she is the bait. But if she knows, she might tip him off."

"Have you ever seen that girl in action?" Dean asked. "She could win an Oscar she's so convincing."

"Dolus can read minds. If she is even thinking about being bait, he'll know."

"So we just let her dad confront her?" I asked. "He might hurt her."

"He will not hurt one of his children, especially if he is trying to convince them to join him. Hurting them doesn't bode well for trust."

"Okay, so we use Ali as bait," Dean said, trying to clarify. "But how do will kill this son of a bitch?"

"If I can get close to him, I can send him back to hell."

"Well if it's that easy, how come no one's ever done it?" I asked, confused.

"He is surprisingly difficult to pin down. He can only be killed if he's taken by surprise."

"So what do we do?" I ask.

"We wait," Cas responded.

We walked back over to where we had left Ali, only to be greeted by a swirling mass of colored plastic. There were hundreds of balls floating around Ali, surrounding her like a cocoon. "What are you doing?" I asked, confused. Her head snapped towards me, and all of the balls suspended in the air came crashing down, bouncing once, then rolling away.

"Cleaning up, the fun way," She smiled. "Since you assholes are done being secretive, mind lending me a hand?" She asked, motioning towards the balls.

I needed to do some more research on Dolus, so I tried not to feel guilty as I declined. Dean looked at the balls everywhere, and I could tell he had no desire to help. As we walked away, I could hear Ali complaining.

Once we got back to our room, I pulled out my laptop. I decided if we were going to go up against Dolus, I wanted to know more about him.

After over an hour of research, I was about to give up when I heard a crash from across the hall. Dean had fallen asleep, so I went over to him, shaking his shoulders. "Dean! Wake up, he's here!"

Ali

"It's me, your father."

I looked at the demon in disbelief. How could this be my father? How did he find me? "You're my father?" I asked, skeptically.

"I am," he said, calmly. "I just want to talk."

"There's no way in hell I'm going to talk to you. You know, I kill things like you," I said.

"You mean things like yourself?" He said, lowering his arms.

"Get out," I demanded, pointing towards the door. "Go, just leave."

"But Ali, I haven't seen you in so long, can't a father visit his baby girl?" He tried to step closer, to run his hand along my cheek, but I stepped back.

"You may have knocked up my mom, but you aren't my father."

"You can't just turn your back on me," He said, smiling. "You're a demon. Nothing more."

"I'm not- I mean, I..." I tried to say something back, to prove him wrong, but there wasn't much I could say. He was right.

"What are you even doing here? All you do is get in the way."

"I'll have you know, I'm actually very useful," I said, crossing my arms.

"Useful for what, cracking jokes? They don't need you." He laughed. "You'd be better off if you came with me."

I furrowed my brow. "Come with you? Why would I do that?"

"Because if you come with me, you can unleash your full potential. You can be powerful, no one will ever look down on you." My father stpeed toawrds me, whispering into my ear. "I can make you a queen."

"What do you mean, 'no one will ever look down on me'? Who says people look down on me?"

"People always have, they always will. Humans will always find a reason as to why they're surperior. Maybe because you're short, maybe because you're a girl. Those boys you're traveling with, they don't trust you. All you are to them is demon scum, worth less than the mud on their shoes."

"No," I said, "you're wrong. Sam and Dean, they- I'm not just a demon, like you. I'm a person, I'm human too."

"No, you're not. You're a demon, and that's all you are." As he spoke, I looked down at my shoes. He was right. I wasn't human, I was like him. I hurt people. I wasn't any better than he was. He held out a hand. "Will you come with me?" He asked, looking hopeful. I was about to take it, when my eyes landed on my laptop. I remembered my diary. I remembered writing in the back of the impala. I thought about the past few weeks, the things I had seen, the people I'd met. The people I'd helped save.

"No," I said, forcefully. "I am not just a demon. My name is Aliquam Vendicta, and I am more than just one of your children."

"What are you talking about? You're going to come with me, aren't you." Daddy dearest, grabbed for my arm, but I pulled back, then slapped him across the face. He fell back, knocking a lamp off a table.

"No, I am not coming with you. I'm going to stay here, and I'm going to help people." I walked up to him, and spit on him. "I am not like you, and I never will be." Just then, the door burst open, revealing Sam, Dean, and Castiel. They rushed in and pinned my father to the floor, then Cas touched his hand to my father's forhead, spoke a few words, then my fathers eyes glowed white, and he disintegrated.

"Ali!" Sam said. "Are you alright?"

"How did you guys know my dad was here?" I asked.

"That was why I needed to talk to Sam and Dean earlier," Castiel explained.

"And you couldn't have given me a little heads up?" I demanded.

"We needed to catch your father by surprise, and he can read minds. If you had known, he would have known we were coming." Castiel looked at me, studying my expression. "You weren't going to join him, were you?" He asked.

"Of course not, did you all have no faith in me at all?" I asked.

"You are much stronger than I had thought," Castiel said, disappearing. Once he was gone, I noticed Sam staring at me, like I had sprouted wings and antlers.

"What, do I have something in my teeth?" I asked.

"It's, uh, nothing," He blushed, looking down.

"You know what?" I said, pushing Sam and Dean out of my room. "I'm going to take a nap. If I'm not up by dinner, get me a burger or something." I shut the door, then crawled into my bed, pushing aside my laptop. As I drifted between sleep and consciousness, I made a list in my head of all the reasons I would never had gone with my dad. The first reason that popped into my head was Sam Winchester. I thought about him, and his hair. I thought about how he convinced me not to jump, how he helped me to become who I am. It was then that I realized that I was in love. Not in some earth-shattering realization, but more of a quiet idea, and as I drempt, I dempt of him.

When I woke, it was pitch black outside. I rolled onto my side to look at the clock on the bedside table, and saw that it was 3:28 in the morning. I tried to fall back asleep, but I couldn't manage it. I got out of bed, and stretched my arms, arching my back. I walked over to the bathroom, and saw on the counter was a takeout box with my name on it.

I opened it up, grinning when I saw a burger and fries. I lifted up the bun and grinned even wider. On the burger was a splash of ketchup, and a ring of raw onion. Sam or Dean had remembered exactly what I liked on my burgers. (My money was on Sam) It wasn't that big of a deal, but it made my night.

I didn't want to stay cooped up in my room, so I grabbed my burger and my jacket, then walked out the door. As I stepped into the cold December air, I shivered. I walked along a dirt path, watching as my breath turned into wisps of white smoke. The path took me through a thicket of trees.

It was dark, but my eyes had adjusted. As I walked, I thought about my dad. He had said a lot of things, and a lot of it I knew was bullshit, but some of it really got to me. Was I really helping? Had I really made a noticeable difference? Or was I just dead weight?

The path lead to a little creek with a wooden bridge from bank to bank. I walked onto the bridge, standing in the middle, leaning over the rail. I stared down at the water, seeing a rippling image of a girl in hiking boots and a fluffy jacket. I smiled, and the girl smiled back. I looked up to see a slash of silver in the inky black soup of a sky.

When I was younger, I thought the moon was a cut in the sky, like maybe a mean old cat had come along and clawed open the dark flesh. Now I know it's just a shiny rock, millions of miles away. It's funny how growing up can ruin little pieces of magic, like the cat who clawed the sky.

Thinking about the moon made me think of an old song I had heard recently. Within moments, it was stuck in my head. I started to him the tune, raising and swaying my arms as if I were a comductor. I looked down at the water, then pointed my finger at it, raising it slightly. To my amazement, a snake of water shot up like a fountain, following my fingers. I raised fountain after fountain after fountain, swirling and twisting. I laughed, realizing that moments like this, private, powerful moments, are what made me feel alive.

Of course that only lasted until my fingers turned numb from the cold air. I jogged back to the motel, rubbing my hands together, trying to return feeling to my icy fingers. Once I reached my room, I made myself a cup of coffee, relishing the warmth the mug coaxed into my hands. I was still wide awake, but I couldn't keep my mind on one thing at a time. My mind drifted from my father to my powers to my diary to memories to Sam.

Once I started thinking about Sam, I couldn't stop. He had saved my life, in more ways than one. He was always there for me. And for the second time that night, I drifted to sleep with Sam Winchester dancing through my thoughts.

I woke to the sound of fists banging on my door. "Ali!" It was Dean. "Get up, we've got a job, we need to get going!"

"Okay, give me a few minutes!" I called back, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. I shoved all my clothes into my bag, pulled on a pair of sweatpants, then joined Dean in the hall. "Where's Sam?" I asked, looking around.

"He's out by the impala, said he wanted to check something, I dunno." Dean shrugged, then walked off. I followed.

We joined Sam in the car, and as soon as all the doors were closed, we were off. We drove for about two hours, and in that time Sam told me about the job.

"A friend of ours called this morning," Sam began. "She said there had been a string of murders lately, asked us to look into it. So I pulled up some news articles, and I think we may have a demon infestation."

"Well, doesn't that sound exciting," I said with mock enthusiasm. "I assume today would be a good time to break out the demon powers?"

"Do you think you can do it?" Sam asked, worry in his eyes.

"Oh hell yeah," I grinned. "I've been practicing."

Once we arrived in town, we met up with the woman who had called. She told us about the deaths, about the people who claimed that they hadn't been in control of their own bodies. She said that witnesses had seen people with pure black eyes. Once we were done talking with the woman, we headed back to the impala.

"So how many demons do you think we're up against?" I asked.

"Well, the victims were usually attacked in by packs of four, right?" Dean asked, checking for clarification.

Sam nodded. "It sounds like we're up against a quartet."

So tracked down the demons, eventually finding ourselves standing in front of an abandoned factory. It was creepy as hell, looking like no one had been there in years.

"After you guys," I said, stepping aside.

"Ladies first," Sam suggested.

"Age before beauty," I shot back.

"Would you two little girls shut up for two minutes?" Dean shushed us. We approached the factory slowly, creaking open the rusted door and slipping through silently. We stepped into a dark room filled with rusted machinery and assembly lines. As we walked, I kept glancing over my shoulder. I felt like something was following us, but I saw nothing, so I dismissed the thought.

After a few more moments of exploring, we saw a light in the distance. Four bodies were gathered around a metal trashcan with flames leaping from the top.

I could see mostly backs, but one of them was facing towards us, his eyes completely black. He saw us approaching, and tried to jump into action, but we were quicker. I called upon my powers and managed to take on one, Sam got another, and Dean got the last two. In a matter of moments, the factory was demon free. Or so we thought.

As I was walking over towards Sam and Dean to ask them a question, I felt something move behind me. Then, everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Sam looked up, and his eyes widened. His mouth opened, shouting my name, pointing behind me, and I turned to see a man holding a knife, running for me. I tried to use my powers, but I couldn't concentrate. He lept for me, slashing at my arm. He tore a gash into my left bicep, and I cried out in pain. As blood ran down my arm, I turned to the man, and kicked him in the groin, then disarmed him. I grabbed the knife from his hands, the pinned him to the floor. Within moments, I had finished exorcising, and a pillar of black smoke shot from his mouth, then disappeared.

* * *

**I forgot to say this before- I am so sorry about all my typos. I will go over them and fix them eventually, but for right now I don't really have time. I am beyond aware of their presence, and they reeeeally bug me, so I'll try and fix them tomorrow, maybe the day after that. Eventually. They will be dealt with.**


	7. Sam & Ali 7

**Alrighty, so remember when I said last chapter that you would have two more, an epilogue, then fem!Dean and Cas? Well, I lied. You get all that, but this is the last chapter before the epilogue, which will be posted shortly. **

**This is another one of those chapters that's both Sam and Ali though, so just a warning. **

**And right now, I would like to thank my friend (who shall remain nameless) for reading every chapter within moments of it being published, even though he never had to. Thank you, so much, you don't know how much that means to me.**

**Alright. And with all of that out of the way, I give to you: Chapter 7  
-Fox**

* * *

Sam

"Have you ever had stitches before?" I asked as I pulled the thread through Ali's torn flesh, pulling it closed. She winced, and bit the cloth in her mouth. I could see a tear shimmering in her left eye. I felt bad. I should have seen that last demon coming, I should have been able to get to it before it got to her.

"No, I haven't. First time for everything, right?" Ali tried for humor, but I could tell she was in pain. I pulled the needle through her skin again, the gash almost completely sewn shut.

"I'm sorry," I said, wincing as I pulled the needle through one last time. "I'm so sorry."

"It's fine," She said, even though she didn't look fine. "I'm a big girl, I can handle myself." She tried to punch me, but she used her injured arm, and the thread moved in her skin, so she pulled back. I hated seeing her in pain, hated seeing her so hurt. It was like she was a bird, and someone had clipped her wings wrong. Not only could she no longer fly, but she was in pain.

"I'm going to go get some rubbing alcohol, stay here, okay?" I said, getting up from the motel couch.

"Where would I go?" She asked. I returned a few moments later with three cotton balls and a bottle of rubbing alcohol. I placed a cotton ball over the opening of the bottle then tipped it over, letting the liquid seep into the cotton.

"This is going to sting," I warned, then pressed the drenched cotton ball to her wound. Ali whimpered, but kept it together. I dabbed at the cut, cleaning away dirt and dried blood. "All done," I said, tossing the cotton balls into a trashcan. Ali rolled down her sweatshirt sleeve, wincing again.

"I think I'm gonna get some rest," Ali said, heading for the door. "And Sam? Thanks." I nodded, then watched her walk out the door, suddenly feeling emptier.

I don't know why, but I had the sudden urge to run after Ali. I thought better of it, then I joined Dean by the beds.

"Did you finish stitching her up?" He asked, looking up from a newspaper as I sat down across from him.

"Yeah. But listen, Dean, I... I think maybe we should take Ali home." Dean looked shocked.

"Why would we do that?" He asked, putting his newspaper down.

"I don't want her to get hurt anymore," I admitted. "I don't want her to have to go through something like today again."

"Sam, she can handle herself, she's half demon."

"But she's half human, too. She isn't a hardened hunter, Dean. She's a girl who got to grow up soft."

"Sam, she's a 25 year old vengeance demon, she can hold her own."

"But she shouldn't have to worry about that kind of thing," I tried to reason. "She should get to live a normal life."

"She can't, some hunter might come along and be not nearly as forgiving as we are. She's safe with us."

"Dean, no one's safe with us."

"Why do you care so much anyway?" Dean asked, his voice rising.

"I-" I didn't know until that moment, why I cared so much. But then it hit me, like a cartoon anvil, and I couldn't believe I hadn't seen it before. "I think I'm in love with her," I admitted.

"Why do you always fall for the things that aren't human?" Dean asked, shaking his head. "First Madison, then Ruby, and now this? Dude, I think you've got a problem." Dean punched me in the shoulder, a bit harder than if he were just joking. Then his eyes softened. "Go for it," He said, then clicked off his lamp, pulling back the blanket on the bed.

"Jerk," I whispered.

"Bitch," He whispered back. And then I drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

I woke to the sound of hushed conversation. It was still dark in the room, but there was a light coming from the bathrrom. I saw two figures silhouetted, facing each other. They were whispering, and I strained to hear them.

"Dean, are you sure he's asleep?" Said the shorter one. Was that Ali? Why was she in here?

"Sam's a heavy sleeper, don't worry." What were they talking about? Why did it matter if I was awake or asleep? "What did you want to talk about?" Dean asked, confusion evident in his voice.

"It's about Sam," She said, cracking her knuckles. I had noticed she did that when she was nervous. Why was Ali talking to Dean about me?

"No shit, why else would you make such a big deal about him not hearing you?"

"Shut up, okay?" Ali said, crossing her arms. "I need to ask you something, but please don't laugh, promise?"

Dean stood straighter, raising his hand. "Scout's honor," He said.

"I'm serious!" Ali swatted at him, but he ducked away from her hand.

"Yes, fine, now what's so damn important?" Dean asked.

"I-" Ali started, then shook her head. "Nevermind, it's stupid, I'll just go." She turned to leave, but Dean grabbed her arm.

"No way, you woke me up at four in the morning, you're gonna tell me why."

"No, it's not important, okay? I'm sorry for waking you up." She tried to pull her arm from Dean's grip, but he held on tight.

"Tell me," He demanded. "Please?"

"I think I'm in love, okay?" She pulled again, and Dean let go. I felt my face flush. Ali? In love with me?

Dean chuckled. "I knew it!" He said triumphantly.

"Please, don't tell him," Ali said, heading for the door. "Please, just, don't tell him."

"You got it," Dean said, walking back to his bed.

"And Dean?" Ali said, slipping out the door.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks." And then she was gone.

I tried to fall back asleep, but my mind was racing. Ali was all I could think about. Her soft brown hair, her infectious laugh, her smart ass comments, the way she smiled, like she couldn't quite believe we hadn't left her yet. I thought about all the times we've been driving, and I'd turn around to ask her a question, only to find her curled up in a ball, her chest rising and falling, her eyes squeezed shut.

So she loved me. She did, she had said so. And earlier that night, I had said the same about her. But as I thought, I realized that even though I loved her, I couldn't. She'd only end up hurt. So many of the girls I've loved before are dead or hurt, and only once or twice did they have it coming.

I eventually fell back asleep, and didn't wake until Dean poured a glass of water on my head. "What the hell?" I yelled, wiping water out of my eyes.

"I'm going out for a bit, try not to miss me too much." Dean laughed, then headed out the door. I got up and had just finished getting dressed when a small knock sounded on the door. I opened the door to see Ali lloking smaller than usual, swallowed by an over-large sweater.

"Ali," I said, stepping aside. "Come on in. What's up?"

Ali started cracking her knuckles, one finger at a time. "I was wondering if I could hang out in here? I think the heater in my room is broken, and I'm pretty cold."

"Sure," I said. "I was just going to start looking for another job."

"I think I'll go get my laptop," She said, stepping back across the hall, unlocking her door, then walking in. The door closed, but an instant later, it opened again, and Ali came out, laptop in one hand, charger in the other. Then she came into my room, plopping down in the chair she had sat in earlier as I had sewn up her arm.

After sitting in silence for half an hour, Ali got up from the chair she was sitting in, and stretched her arms, wincing. "It's too quiet in here," She said, frowning. "You don't mind if I play some music, do you?" She asked.

"No, it's fine," I said. Ali pressed a key on her laptop, and music filled the room. Ali smiled, bobbing her head. Then she walked over to me, holding out her hand.

"Dance with me?" She asked, smiling. I laughed and rolled my eyes.

"Fine," I said, getting up from my chair. She put her hand on my shoulder, then guided my hand to the small off her back. I could feel her breath on my neck as we swayed to the music. I looked into her eyes and saw that they may have been an ordinary brown, but there were tiny flecks of gold mixed in, and I couldn't seem to pull my eyes away from hers.

We danced for the whole song, and when it ended, Ali looked away, her face turning red. "Thanks," She mumbled.

I could feel my face turning red too. "It was no problem," I said, rubbing the back of my neck. I turned away from her, sitting back down at the desk I had been working at before the dance,

"Hey," She said. I turned back to her, just in time to feel her lips pressed against mine. I was shocked, but I kissed back, pulling her into me. Her lips were soft, and tasted like chapstick. Then I realized what I was doing. I pushed her away. I couldn't do this to her. I didn't want to hurt her.

"Ali," I tried. "I'm sorry it's just..." I tried to think of something to tell her. "I don't see you that way."

"No, I'm sorry I shouldn't've done that I just, I think I should go." She grabbed her laptop, clutching it tight against her chest.

"Ali, wait. Look, you're great it's just that I- you're like a little sister to me." I felt awful for lying, but she would this was better. If I told her I thought I was going to hurt her, she would blame herself. That, or she would think I thought of her as weak, which I most certainly did not.

"I'm sorry," She mumbled. "I think I should head back to my room." I could see tears in her eyes and I felt like a needle was being pushed into my heart.

"Ali, wait," I tried, but she was gone. I groaned. I had messed up this time, and now Ali probably hated me. I sat down on my bed, punching a pillow. I let out a breath, then went back to my laptop. An instant later, the door opened. I jumped a little startled. I had hoped it was Ali, but instead I saw Dean, looking really confused.

"Why is Ali crying?" He asked, furrowing his brow.

"How can you tell?" I asked. "Isn't she in her room?"

"Yeah, and I can hear her from the hall. So why is she crying?"

"Shit," I said. "I'm such a dick."

"I knew that already, what's it got to do with Ali?" Dean asked, sitting down next to me. Then, he looked from me to the door, then back at me, putting it together. "Sammy, what did you do?" He asked, quietly.

And so I told him. I told him how she came in, then decided we needed music. I told him about the dance, then about the kiss. I told him about pushing her away, and at last I told him about her running out. Once I was done, Dean slapped me.

"What the hell was that for?" I asked, my cheek stinging.

"What the hell was that for?" Dean said, gesturing at the door. "You idiots both like eachother, why'd you push her away?"

"Because I don't want to hurt her!" I shouted. "I couldn't bear it if she ended up hurt because of me."

"Well, you've done a great job of that so far," Dean said sarcastically. "Just go tell her you're sorry and that you meant none of what you said." Dean made it sound so easy.

"I can't. I'm not going to do this, Dean."

"Yes, you are," Dean said. He stood up, then pulled my arm, trying to get me to stand with him, but I remained seated. "You don't want to hurt her? Well, you did. Now go fix your mess. If you're not going to kiss her, at least apologize." As much as I hated to admit it, Dean was right. I should at least apologize, I thought to myself.

"Fine," I said, getting off the bed. I hesitated at the door, but I pushed it open. I walked across the hall and knocked on Ali's door twice. "Ali?" I said. "Please listen to me. I'm sorry. I am beyond sorry. Can you open the door please?" No response. "Ali?" I asked again. "You in there?" Still no response. I reached into my pocket for the extra key she had given me when we checked in. She had said it was insurance, in case she lost hers.

I unlocked the door and saw the room was empty, with all the lights off. No, one light was on. In the bathroom. A bar of yellow light seeped through the gap between the door and the wall. Something felt off. I went for the door, meaning to knock lightly, but I pushed too hard and the door opened, revealing one of the last things I thought I'd ever see. On the tile floor was a pool of blood, and in the middle was Ali. Her white sweater was stained crimson, the sleeves rolled up to reveal deep cuts along her wrists. I stared in horror, wishing what I was seeing was just a dream, a nightmare.

"No," I whispered, "no. This can't... Ali, please, just open your eyes?" I begged. I knealt down to put her head in my lap. "I'm so sorry," I said, a tear sliding down my cheek.

Ali

Twenty Minutes Earlier

I rushed back into my room, closing the door just as tears started to fall from my eyes. I slid down, my back against the door, feeling the scratchy carpet poke through my stockings. I held my hands up to my face, wiping away tears. I had blown it. One of the closest friends I'd ever had, and now he probably hated me. I groaned, then got up, walking over to my bed. I let myself fall, but I landed on my bad arm, and I think I pulled a stitch. I cried out, and I felt tears well up in my eyes again.

I was so utterly useless. I couldn't do anything right. I was like a shooting star. People said they beieved in me, but I was nothing more than a flaming ball of disapointment, destined to crash and burn.

It was then that I started to think about good old Daddy Dearest. I thought about all the things he had said, and I realized he was right. I wasn't helping Sam and Dean, I was holding them back. I was demon scum, and I would never be anything more. I wasn't human, even though I had tried so hard to be. Not only was I demon scum, I was weak. I knew it, and so did Sam and Dean. I could see it in Sam's eyes as he woke me from countless nightmares, and in Dean's when I got hurt. I was dead weight.

I rolled onto my side, trying to bury myself in the blankets, but had forgotten that earlier that day, I had been taking inventory of my backpack. A majority of the bed was taken up by books and knives, plus a gun and some ammunition. I looked at the light reflecting off the blade just inches from my face. I picked it up, and studied it. I could end everything, I thought. It's not like I'd be missed. I was about to slash my wrists then and there, but I looked at the pretty white sheets. Blood wouldn't wash out of that. I figured I might as well try and do one last good deed before I ended it all, so I moved my sorry ass to the bathroom. I sat down on the edge of the tub and held the knife above my wrists.

Then I cut. I slashed, deep and quick. It hurt for a moment, but I was transfixed by the thick crimson blood spilling out of the gash. I did it again, but this time on the other wrist. There was a little puddle of blood on the ground now. It looked so pretty. Blood was such a pretty color. I slashed a few more times, but then my vision started to go dark. "I'm so sorry," I muttered, before everything was black.

I blinked opened my eyes to find myself in a room I didn't recognize. I looked down to see I was in a hospital bed. I looked at my wrists to see thick black stitches all over. I looked up again and noticed Sam sitting in a chair about five feet away from me. He was asleep, his chest rising and falling rhythmically.

I saw his eyes flutter, so I shut mine. I didn't want to talk to him. I didn't even want him here, seeing me like this. I heard him yawn, and I fought the urge to yawn myself. I heard the chair scrape against the floor as he got up. I felt a hand on my head, brushing my hair aside. "Ali," I heard him say. "Please wake up? I can't do this. I can't lose you." There were tears in his voice, and I felt guilty, but my eyes remained shut. Then he kissed my forhead, and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

I snapped my eyes open. I had to get out of there. If I stayed, Sam would look at me differently. I'd be damaged. I didn't think I could handle that. I stood up on shaky legs, walking towards the door. I pulled it open and got about five steps before I was stopped by the most infuriating, leather-clad asshole I'd ever met.

"Where are you going?" Dean asked, grabbing my shoulder.

"Just let me go," I pleaded. "I can't do this anymore, okay? I'm not strong like you and Sam, I just want to go home."

"Then just stay the night," Dean said, his grip tightening.

"Dean," I said, turning towards him. "I'm done."

"I won't let you do that," He said. I was about to say something, when I saw Sam round the corner. He had a can of soda in his hand, but when he saw me, he stopped. The can slipped from his fingers, falling to the ground. I tried to turn away, but Dean wouldn't let me. Suddenly, I was wrapped in Sam's arms as he buried his face in my hair.

"Please, never leave me again," He said, pulling me closer.

"I-" I paused. "I promise."


	8. Epilogue

**Guys, I'm warning you now that if you are desperate for a happy ending, don't read this. I have a tendency to kill off characters. Whoops? Anyway, I'm really proud of this story, and want to thank everyone who has stuck with me this whole time. I am still going to write the fem!Dean and Cas chapter, but it might be a while. And so, without further adieu, I give to you, the epilogue.**

* * *

Ali

I felt his lips, strong against mine. I had my hands wrapped around the back of his neck, my fingers playing with his hair. I could feel his hands on my back, gripping me tight. They traveled lower, and one squeezed my butt. "Sam," I breathed. "Aren't you a little fiesty today?" I leaned in closer, pushing him against the door of the impala. Just then, I lost my balance, and fell on top of him. I felt my legs slide off the seat, but Sam wrapped his arms around me, and I started to kiss him again.

Then the door opened behind me, and Dean poked his head in. "Hey!" He yelled. "What did I tell you two? No sex in my car, you could ruin the interior." I blushed a little.

"Dean, we weren't-" I tried to explain.

"No, no, I get it," Dean cut me off. "You two children have these urges. They are completely natural and-" I slapped him. He rolled his eyes, closed the door, then got in the driver's seat. Since the hospital, Sam had taken to sitting in the back with me, so he could hold me. I think it was his way of telling me that if I ever tried to kill myself or run away again, he wouldn't allow it.

It had been a few weeks since that night. My stitches have been long since removed, and my scars were starting to turn into little pale pink lines. It was January, so I wore a lot of sweaters and other things with long sleeves, and I think Sam was grateful. He would always look away from my scars, because I think it made him feel guilty. He still blames himself, even though I've told him time and time again, it wasn't his fault.

I rested my head on Sam's chest, feeling the little bumps in the road as we drove. I was tired, but car trips had a way of doing that. I curled up against him, and he wrapped his arms around me, the way he always did. Tightly, as if he were afraid I would leave him if he didn't hold on. Right before I fell asleep, I heard him whisper in my ear.

"I love you."

When I opened my eyes, it was dark outside. The impala was parked somewhere, and Dean was gone. I could still feel Sam's arms around me, but I could hear his even breathing, feeling the rise and fall of his chest. I started to move his arms so I could sit up, but he muttered a 'no', then pulled me tighter.

"I thought you were asleep," I said as he opened his eyes.

"So did I," He said, yawning. "Where are we?"

"I was trying to check, but I can't see out the window from this angle," I complained. He sighed, then loosened his grip. I smiled, kissed his cheek, then sat up. I opened the door to see a motel, which, as always, looked crappy. I was getting out of the impala when Dean appeared, holding room keys.

"Oh good, you two are up." He handed a key to Sam, then one to me, keeping the last one for himself. We headed to the rooms, and when we reached them, I went in one, the Winchesters in another.

Since I had just slept for a few hours in the car, I wasn't especially tired. I pulled out my laptop and was planning on catching up on that soap opera on Netflix. I was about to hit play when something felt off. I closed the laptop, getting up slowly. I reached into my bag, puling out a gun. I turned around to see Castiel standing about five feet from me.

"Cas?" I asked. "Why are you in my room?"

"Ali, we need to talk." He motioned for me to follow him, but I didn't move.

"About what?" I demanded. I hated it when people just strolled into my motel rooms. For all they knew, I could have been in my underwear.

"You're dying," Cas stated, bluntly.

"What?"

"Well, maybe not yet, but you will be. You'll be dead by your next birthday."

"What are you talking about?" I fumed.

"I was looking into your father, seeing if his children have ever resisted him before, as you did."

"And?"

"And, some of them have. But they have all died, like clockwork, on their next birthday after confronting him."

"So I'm cursed?" I asked.

"Yes, I guess you could put it that way." I sat down, trying to believe what he was saying.

"Are you sure?" I asked. "Completely, one-hundred percent sure?"

"I am."

"Is there anything we can do about it?" I tried. Cas just shook his head.

"I'm sorry, but it looks like you're going to die."

"Do Sam and Dean know?" I asked.

"No. not yet, I was heading over there next-"

"Don't," I cut him off. "Please don't. I'll tell them, okay?"

"I won't tell them," Cas assured me. "I think I'll be going now." And with that, he was gone.

I sat down on my bed, putting my head in my hands. Did I really have less than a year? Was I really going to die? And then I thought about Sam. I couldn't leave him, I couldn't do that to him. Not again.

I felt a tear slide down my cheek, soon followed by another. I didn't want to die, not now. I was happy. I was in love, I was helping people, and I was happy. A few weeks ago, I would have been fine, I would have embraced death with open arms. But now? It wasn't fair.

I sighed, then clicked off the lamp. I was suddenly a whole lot more tired than I had been ten minutes ago. As I settled into bed, I tried to think about how I would tell Sam. Would I tell Sam? I would have to. But not right away. He was so happy right now, so at peace. Knowing him, if I told him, he'd spend the next ten months searching for a cure that doesn't exist. He'd be miserable. I decided I would wait to tell him, give him a few more months, so that he could be blissfully ignorant. I would wait up until the last week, and then I would break it to him, slowly and gently.

But I had to tell someone. Somebody other than Cas and I had to know. I couldn't keep a secret like this inside, or I might die of stress. Someone else. But who? I wanted to tell someone who'd understand. Anyone like that would be dead, I thought to myself. Unless someone brought them back. I slapped my self for not realizing it. Dean had been damned to hell. He had a year. I needed to talk to Dean. So as I drifted off, I decided that in the morning, I would have myself a little chat with Dean Winchester.

I woke to Sam pulling the blankets off my bed. I groaned, curling up to cover my legs and feet. "Wake up, sleeping beauty." He said, laughing. I groaned again, ten threw a pillow at him.

"Go away," I slurred.

"You'll have to try harder than that."

"Then join me," I said, wiggling my eyebrows. "Come warm me up." He smiled, and climbed into the bed with me. And we stayed like that for goodness knows how long, and I tried so hard not to think about last night. I wanted that moment to last forever, curled up in Sam's arms, running my fingers thrugh his unnaturally soft hair, feeling his warm breath send shivers down my spine.

After what seemed like an eternity, Dean came in, looking pissed. He appeared as if he were about to lose it when he saw Sam and I laying in bed. "Sam, what the hell are you doing? I set you to wake up Ali over an hour ago! We were supposed to be driving for the past hour."

"We got a little distracted?" Sam tried. Dean rolled is eyes.

"I swear Sammy, you two are gonna be the death of me." Dean chuckled.

I got up out of bed, then shooed them out the door. "Out! I need to get changed." Sam tried to say something, but I shut the door. "I'll meet you two in the impala, just give me five minutes." They left, and of course I was lying when I said five minutes. Ten minutes later, I heard a knock on the door.

"Ali, we gotta go, what's taking so damn long?" It was Dean. I remembered my decision from the night before, then opened the door.

"Dean, I need to talk to you," I said.

"Um, okay?" He said, stepping into the room.

"So, Cas visited me last night, and told me some interesting news," I started. "He told me I was dying."

"What?" Dean looked confused.

"Apparently, my dad has attatchment issues, and whenever one of his kids won't go with him, he throws a tantrum. He cursed me, and now I have until my birthday."

"Wait," Dean sat down. "You're telling me you have ten months to live?" I nodded. "Does Sam know?"

"No, I uh- I don't want him to know. I just want him to be happy, you know?"

"In a sad way, yes, I know exactly what you mean." Dean looked down at his shoes, probaby remembering his stay in hell.

"I just needed to tell someone," I said, picking up my bag and heading for the door. "Please don't tell him, okay?" I begged.

"Your secret's safe with me." And it was, for about a month. One blissful month. And then, something happened. This is how the story went, according to Dean.

It was the night before Valentine's Day, Sam had asked Dean for ideas for the next day. He was so excited, Dean described him as "A puppy that just discovered the joys of peanutbutter." Sam wanted to do something special, but he couldn't decide what.

Dean didn't mean to say it, but it just came out. "She's dying, Sammy."

"What?" Sam had asked, utterly baffled. "Who's dying?"

"Ali's dying. It's her dad, he cursed her. She's got until her birthday."

"Wait, what? Ali's dying? Since when?"

"Since about a month ago." Dean said that Sam looked like he'd been punched in the gut.

"She told you that?" He had asked, quietly.

"She wanted you to be happy," Dean tried.

"I need to go talk to Ali," He said, rushing out of the room.

I had been typing, stretched out on my bed, updating my diary and thinking about what to do with Sam the next day when the door swung open, startling me. I looked up to see a seriously pissed off Sam. He stormed over to where I was sitting, then when I thought for sure that he was going to hit me or something, he hugged me. He held me tight, and we stayed like that for three whole minutes.

"Sam?" I asked, trying to loosen his hold. "What's up?"

"Why didn't you tell me?" He breathed into my hair. "How could you not tell me you were dying?" I felt my heart stop for a second, then it pumped into overdrive.

"Sam, how did you find out?" I asked, looking away. I had tried so hard to hide the truth.

"Dean," was all he said. So then I explained all that I knew, while Sam held me. He didn't say a word, just stared into my eyes.

"What are we gonna do?" I said, trying to keep tears from forming in my eyes. I wanted to stay strong, I wanted to show Sam that he didn't need to be sad, if I wasn't sad.

"I don't know," Sam said, stroking my hair.

"I don't want to die," I said. "I don't want to leave you here." Who was i kidding, I didn't have a choice. I was royally screwed, and I was going to die.

"Then don't," He laughed a bittersweet laugh. "When death comes knocking, tell him to screw off."

"If only it was that easy," I tried for a smile, but couldn't manage it.

And then came the silence. It was a nice, soft silence. But I couldn't stop thinking about my impending death, and soon enough, I was crying. Quiet sobs escaped my mouth, but Sam just rubbed my back and whispered it was going to be okay, over, and over, and over. That night, I cried myself to sleep in his arms, as he rocked me back and forth.

I woke up the next morning, still pressed against Sam. I breathed in the scent of his shirt. It smelled like sweat and soap. I nuzzled my face against his chest, wishing I could feel as peaceful as he looked. Even though we had been dating for a month, I still felt weak at the knees when he hugged me, and when he kissed me, I felt like I was melting into a puddle of warmth.

I looked over to the clock hanging on the wall to see that it was already eleven. Even though I didn't want to wake Sam, we needed to be getting up. I pressed my lips to his, tangling my fingers in his hair. "Wakey wakey," I breathed.

"Five more minutes?" He asked, groggily. I kissed him again.

"It's already eleven, come on," I said, attempting to pull him out of bed.

"Why do we have to get up?" Sam asked. "Why can't we just stay here?" I tried to think of a decent reason, but I couldn't.

"Fine then, don't get up, I guess I'll just get breakfast by myself, on Valentines Day, all alone." I pouted. "And I even had this new skirt I was going to wear. What a shame. That's $30 I'll never get back. That is, unless I had someone worth dressing up for." I elbowed Sam lightly.

"Ugh, fine, I'll get up." He sat up and stretched. His hair was everywhere, and I laughed.

"I thought only girls got bed head?"

"Shut up," he said, shoving me a little bit. I laughed, but then my smile melted. Oh, how I wished I could just bottle this moment, keep it tucked away forever, living it over and over again. Sam noticed my change in demeanor and pushed my hair away from my face. "Hey, you okay?"

I tried to brighten up, so I flashed Sam a fake smile. "Of course! I'm just tired is all." I could tell Sam didn't believe me, but he didn't say anything else. Instead, he got up and stretched. He was still in the clothes he had been wearing the night before. I looked down and realized I hadn't changed either. "I'm gonna get changed," I said. "I'll meet you in the hall in ten minutes, okay?"

Sam nodded, kissed my forehead, then walked out the door. I turned toward my bag and selected a red miniskirt and a white sweater. I pulled them on, then my favorite pair of hiking boots. I checked my reflection, then brushed my hair and put on mascara and lip gloss. I didn't usually even wear makeup, but today I wanted to look especially nice. It was Valentine's Day, after all.

When I opened the door, I saw Sam leaning against the wall, checking his phone. He looked up when he heard the door open, and he took in a breath when he saw me. "You look amazing," He smiled.

I blushed. "Thanks," I said, grabbing his hand. "So, what do you want to do today?"

"You know, I was just thinking about that," He smiled. "I've got a big day planned."

I raised an eyebrow. "So if you've got it all planned out, am I allowed to know the schedule?"

"Nope!" He laughed, and I rolled my eyes. And so for the remainder of the day, I followed Sam around, and it was one of the best days of my life. It didn't matter what we were doing, we could have been sitting on a street corner, it wouldn't have mattered. It was just so nice to spend a day with the guy I loved, doing normal things.

As the daylight faded into night, I wished for more hours in a day. But as the stars twinkled, I felt my energy start to die. By the time we got back to the motel, I was practically sleep-walking. Sam and I were about to part ways when I grabbed his arm and decided I didn't want to let go. "Stay with me?" I pleaded. He kissed the top of my head.

"Of course." That night, I slept like a baby. My dreams were the kind that don't stay long enough for you to really remember them, but they leave a pleasant feeling, and you wake up completely rested and content. I hadn't slept like that in ages.

The days passed. We continued to hunt, and everything felt normal. Mostly. Sam always stayed with me through the night, now. Often times, I would cry myself to sleep. I tried to stay positive, I tried to live happily, but when you know you're going to die, it's a little difficult. For a while, I didn't even really believe I was dying. I felt comepletely normal.

That is, until about three weeks before my birthday. One morning, I got up feeling normal. But then, without any warning, I started coughing. Not little, tiny coughs, but hacking, weezing coughs that make your throat burn. After about five minutes of non-stop coighing, I started spitting up blood. By then, Sam had woken up. He had been getting me a glass of water when the blood came, he looked horrified. It stopped after a little bit, but for the next week, I got progressively weaker. I could feel my strength leaving. I couldn't hunt, I couldn't do much of anything except sit in bed and write. The worst part of it all was Sam. He would look as if he were in pain everytime I saw him, and it killed me a little bit.

Faster than I knew possible, it was November 21st, my last day. I promised myself I wouldn't cry. I swore to myself I would stay strong, for Sam. I had tried. I had spent the entire day in his arms. I could barely move anymore, and so I just lay there, wrapped up in him. I didn't want to, but at some point I fell asleep. My dreams were muted and monochromatic. And finally, there were no dreams, just darkness.

Sam

Her funeral was on a Saturday. The sun was blocked by clouds, but the weather was strangely warm for November. I laughed a little to myself. Ali loved days like this. Days where the sun was there, but you couldn't see it. The sky was white, and the dead tree branches looked black against it.

Ali's funeral was really just Dean, Cas, and I. We were going to cremate her, but before we did, I walked up to her body, wishing it wasn't wrapped up. I wanted to see her face one last time, just once more. I placed a single sunflower over her body. She had loved them, their sunny yellow, their long stems. Once we were driving, and we passed a field of them, and she made Dean pull over so she could run around in them. I felt a tear slide down my cheek, but I brushed it away.

After the funeral, we walked back to the impala. Ali had asked me to go through her laptop, said something about wanting someone to delete her history. I had laughed then, but now, as I opened it up, I had no intention of deleting anything. As I exited out of the open tabs, my breath caught in my throat when I saw her wallpaper. It was a picture of me and her, laughing. Dean had taken it this summer. She had convinced us to stop for ice cream, saying that it always tasted better when it was 100 degrees out. The cone in her hand was melting down her arm, but she hadn't cared.

I noticed a folder titled 'autobiography'. I laughed, remembering how she never called it her diary, it was an autobiography for when she became a famous hunter. I clicked on it, curious as to what she had been writing for the past year. Not once did she ever let Dean or me read it. The folder was filled with documents named by the day they were written. I opened the first one and started to read.

_November 8th, 2010  
Today, two morons broke into my house, tied me to a chair, and saved my life. I've always wanted to do more in life than sit around and channel-surf for hours on end. They tell me I'm some kind of monster, but they say I can be saved. _

Her autobiography, the story of her life, was about being a hunter. I read every entry, laughing at her jokes and smiling sadly at the entries where she talked about things I remembered vividly. When I reached the end of the list, there was one document that wasn't titled with a date, but instead one word. Sam. I opened it up to see a letter of some sort. I started to read.

_Dear Sam,  
If you're reading this, I'm dead. Don't worry though, I've accepted it by now. But I want you to promise me you and Dean wont sell your souls or anything. Do not, I repeat do NOT sell you souls or try and resurrect me. I know you two have a history of making stupid decisions when dealing with dead people. _

_Now that that's out of the way, I'll start. There are so many things I want to tell you, but I don't have much time. I've got three days left, and with every moment I can feel the life being drained from me. It's not fun, I can tell you that. But as awful as this may be, I can see the pain on your face. I can tell you're not alright, even though you keep telling me you are. Don't you know you shouldn't lie to people who are dying?_

_I want you to forget me. I want you to live as if you'd never met me. I want you to save more people and keep living life, and I don't want to hold you back. I want you to be happy. _

_Do you remember that day in the hospital? Right after suicide attempt #2? Do you remember how you said you couldn't do it without me? You thought I was sleeping, but I heard you. I heard every word. And I want you to know that you can, and you did for years before you met me. I want you to go back to that. _

_I'm so sorry for all of this. I'm sorry that I left you again, even though I promised I never would. I'm sorry that I can't be there, I'm sorry that I took away nine months of happiness. I'm so sorry for what I put you through._

_But I also want to thank you. You saved my life, you made me somebody I was proud of, and you gave me someone to love. Never, not once did I regret coming with you. You gave me life, and I tried to do what I could in return. My debt to you will never be repaid. _

_I want you to know that I love you, more than you could ever imagine. So promise me two things- Be happy, and stay the same plaied-wearing, ridiculously long-haired, gigantic, amazing man I fell in love with, or I will haunt your ass and slap you senseless. (Well, I doubt that I could actually do that, so just keep your promise, okay?) Speaking of slapping, can you slap Dean and/or Castiel until they admit that they are so, without a doubt, in love with eachother? I mean, for crying out loud! _

_Oh, and don't bother with trying to delete my history. Just smash my laptop to smithereens. (You're allowed to email anything you want from it to yourself though, as long as it isn't anything I would never in a million years want you to have. I trust your judgement.)_

_I love you, forever and always.  
-Ali_

As I finished the letter, I realized I was crying. "I promise," I whispered.


	9. BONUS! Fem Dean

**Okay so this is about 1,000 words. I'm sorry that it sucks so bad, I'm just really bad at writing guy's POVs, also I had like no idea what to write for this. Whoops. Anyway, here are some things to know before reading this chapter:**

**-There are boobs, butts, and kissing in this chapter.**

**-There is Dean X Cas kissing.**

**-There is toplessness.**

**-Nothing super graphic.**

**-Sam ruins it all, as always.**

**-This is all Dean's POV**

**That's about it. I hope you enjoy, sorry it sucks. I need to improve my kiss scenes. Like seriously. **

* * *

I ran my hand through my hair, feeling the smoothness. Being a girl was weird, plus whenever I walked I kind of... bounced. I wasn't complaining though. I'd always wondered what being a girl was like. Being shorter and just smaller in general was kind of weird. I must have shrunk seven or eight inches. I hadn't been this short since I was twelve.

As I walked back along the bike trail, I turned around to see Cas, I laughed when I realized he was checking out my butt. I swayed my hips a little bit, showing off my curves. "You like what you see?" I smirked.

"Your hips are swaying at a very attractive angle," Cas responded, eyes still glued to me. They followed my ass, moving back and forth.

"I'll take that as a yes," I said, continuing to sway my hips.

About twenty minutes later, we were back at the motel. Once we were in the room, I remembered the reason I was still a girl. "Hey, Cas, give me a minute," I said, walking to the bathroom. I closed the door, then pulled off my shirt. I stared in the mirror, admiring my sizable chest. Sure, boobs are nice and all, but actually having them is a lot different than just playing with them. They're really heavy. I poked one, then I winced. That hurt more than I thought it would. I heard a knock on the door.

"Dean? Are you almost done staring at yourself?" Cas asked. A thought popped into my head.

"Hey Cas, you ever see an actual pair of tits?" I asked.

"Um-" Cas sounded flustered. "No, I suppose not."

I laughed. "Would you like to?"

"I uh-" Cas didn't finish. I laughed again, then pushed open the door. Cas' eyes widened as they fell upon my chest. I grinned.

"What do you think?"

"They are very round." He reached out a hand, and it hovered above my chest.

"Feel free," I said, guiding his hand. He placed it on my left boob, and squeezed a little, his fingers stroking the sensitive skin there.

"They're very soft," He said, his eyes transfixed. His fingers squeezed a little tighter and I let out a sigh.

"Dude, you are surprisingly good with those fingers." I looked up at him, into his ridiculously blue eyes. He was taller than me now, and I didn't like it. I stood on the tips of my toes, but I was still shorter than him by a good four inches.

Cas continued to rubhis fingers along my chest, swirling and poking, squeezing gently. I felt like I might melt.

"Dean," Cas spoke, breaking the silence. "Your eyes are still green."

I raised an eyebrow. "Of course they are, why wouldn't they be?"

"Everything else isn't really you. Your skin is lighter, your hair blonder. But your eyes are still exactly the same."

"Okay," I spoke slowly. "So what does that have to do with anything?" I was so close to Cas now that I could feel the warmth of his body radiating against me.

"I spend a lot of time looking at your eyes," He admitted, looking away.

I laughed a little bit, then pressed my hand to his cheek, pulling his face so that he was looking at me again. "I look at yours all the time too," I smiled. I pulled his face closer to mine, staring into his eyes. I could see every detail on his face, the curve of his lips, the little hairs on his chin. I felt something surge through me, and I pressed my lips to his.

I moved my hands to the back of his neck, pulling him closer to me. We broke for air, and I suddenly felt myself growing taller. I looked down at my body to see my chest shrinking and my body growing. Within moments, I was back to my regular self. I was still shirtless though. I looked at Cas, smiling when I realized I had returned to being three inches taller. His face was red, and he wouldn't meet my eyes.

"What, did I mess up or something?" I asked, pouting.

"We shouldn't," Cas said.

"Just shut up and kiss me," I groaned, reaching for him. I didn't think it would work, but he turned towards me and I kissed him again. I pushed him up against a wall, deepening the kiss. It was like I was in an oven, it felt so hot in that room. I could see sweat collecting on Cas's forhead. I pushed off his trench coat and let it fall to the floor. He loosened his tie, and together we unbuttoned his shirt, all while kissing. Once the shirt was gone, I wrapped my arms around him, letting them travel down his back, along smooth skin.

I reached his butt and placed my hands there. It was really round. I laughed.

"What?" Cas asked, frowning.

"You've got a nicer ass than most of the girls I've banged." Cas looked at me skeptically.

"I do?"

"You do," I chuckled.

"Your behind is also rather attractive," Cas said, staring. His eyes were still as wide as they had been moments earlier when I had come out of the bathroom.

"Wait," I said. "Does this mean we're gay?"

Cas paused. "I think so," He answered.

"Well damn," I laughed again. "Being gay is a lot more fun than people make it out to be."

Then Cas grabbed my ass. It took me by surprise and I yelped a bit. "I'm sorry," He apologized, stepping back. "I really wanted to touch your butt..."

"What are you, twelve?" I rolled my eyes. Cas reached for his shirt, but I stopped him. "Hey, don't go."

"You want me to stay?" His eyes looked relieved.

"Good god, you're kind of pathetic, of course I want you to stay." Just then I heard the key turning in the lock on the door. Crap, Sam was back. "On second thought, you might want to leave, Sam's back." Cas nodded, then disappeared right as the door opened.

"Dean? Why are you shirtless?" Sam stepped through the door.

"Oh, um, I was about to take a shower," I lied.

"Okay?" Sam looked skeptical. "Well, I'm glad Ali was able to turn you back. What did Cas want?"

"Oh, nothing, just popped in to say hi," I lied again, then ducked into the bathroom.

As I turned on the shower, I heard Sam mutter to himself, "I knew it, they are so a thing."

* * *

**So, was it bad? I'm sorry that it most likely was. **

**Once again, I would like to thank everyone who read and reviewed Human. You all mean the world to me, you don't get how much I love you. I think I'm going to start another story soon-ish, maybe in a few weeks, but I go back to school in about a month, (like 5 weeks or so) so I definitely won't be updating as frequently as I did for this story. **

**Also, should I post the original ending? I changed a lot, but the very first thing I did when I wrote this story was write then ending, mostly because that was the part I was most excited to write.**

**Oh, and does anyone have any idea where I can purchase a cheap trench coat and a blue tie? I think I'm going to be fem!Cas for halloween, and I have no idea where to find a trench coat that's not $800. **

**I love you for reading this.  
-Fox**


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